


Of Body & Mind

by Benquel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Enemies to Lovers, Illustrations, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Draco Malfoy, Powerful Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-04-24 12:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 76,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19173526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benquel/pseuds/Benquel
Summary: Draco presents as an Omega during the summer holidays. Omegas are only reminders of a weaker magical past in the eyes of the Dark Lord, useless and to be disposed of.To save his life Draco's Mother sends him away - to Grimmauld Place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg welcome!!!!!!!! thanks for checking out the story and i hope you guys have a good time reading :^) <3

 

 

The rain that came over the Malfoy estate felt like a mood mourning, anticipating a loss;it came down in a heavy, impenetrable sheet that Draco watched from his bedroom’s window seat. Behind him his clothes were packed in a modestly sized trunk, there was the rushed patter of his parents footsteps running up and down the halls, he could hear the house elves apparating and disapparating erratically to complete whatever tasks they were set to before it was time.

 

His hand touched the glass, freezing against his warming skin. He wanted to cry, to scream like the child he wanted to be, but instead of fiery petulance and resistance he found only numbness. Bland, stoney numbness. 

 

Everything around him was falling apart. 

 

There was a sudden movement at the bedroom’s doorway, and he turned to see his Mother, the calm and beautiful grace she famed this household for was nowhere to be seen. Her face was brazen with distress and torment. 

 

“It’s time, my darling. Please, we have to leave.” 

 

Draco rose on legs he willed not to shake, and left the bedroom he had spent his entire life making his own. His trunk, which was magicked to follow him, shadowed him obediently and silently.His Mother followed suit as well, ducking around the trunk to quickly walk beside him to the foyer where his Father was waiting. 

 

Upon seeing his family at the head of the staircase before the foyer, Master Malfoy rose a hand to sooth his wild hair back over his head - the loose strands that had escaped his black ribbon were dancing over his schooled face. 

 

“Quickly, it’s ready.”

 

As they rushed down the grand staircase, Draco eyed the muggle-fashioned cap on the ground by his Father’s shoe. His Father only spared a moment of his exhausted, cautious expression before he turned it back towards the pocket watch in his hand. 

 

His Mother clasped his face - her long, smooth thumbs running circles into his cheekbones. Draco watched her for a moment, her blue eyes bright and shiny with tears that have yet to give way. Her mouth opened, it shut, it opened again. She was so at a loss for words it frightened Draco more than anything else. _Please_ , he thought desperately, _say something to keep me from breaking._

 

“I love you, my son.” She said at last. 

 

His Father clasped his shoulder tightly, he almost imagined the hand shaking, but he dismissed it, and felt it guide him around to face the port-key. 

 

“Goodbye, Draco. I hope to see you again in time.”

 

“Goodbye, Father.”

 

He bent forward, outstretched his hand and clutched the top of the firm canvas cap.

 

There was the sudden, familiar and unpleasant hook of his insides thrusting upwards and the room around him - the familial heirlooms, traditional paintings, uniquely ancient potted plants, and his parents - all swirled away. 

 

And Draco Malfoy disappeared. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Earlier That Night_

 

 

The crack of the apparition journey to the muggle children’s park was deafening in the nighttime silence. Sirius instinctually sniffed the air, unearthing any hidden presence around him. 

 

He was in the company of someone, he determined, but there wasn’t any attempt to conceal that fact. An Alpha woman, her fragrance was mild of citrus perfume. He could see her, sitting at a bench beneath a blossoming tree. The summertime flowers were falling from the gentle breeze in the air and wafting them below to land in her hair and on her traditional, deep violet witch’s robes. 

 

She looked up as he made his way to her, her gaze seemed distant and weary. 

 

“Sirius, thank you for coming.” 

 

“Why did you ask for me, Narcissa?” 

 

Narcissa smiled but it did not reach her eyes. In the street light he could see her hair, once lemony blond and shiny atop her head in all sorts of old-fashioned yet stylish arrangements of curls and braids, was now undone around her. 

 

“It’s my son, you see, Draco.” 

 

He crossed his arms over his chest. 

 

“What of him?” 

 

His cousin watched him for a moment, as if finally deciding one last time if she should relay what she was about to say. Sirius drew in a little more, interested. That morning when Narcissa’s dark, long-eared owl arrived to him on the shoulder of Dumbledore, who offered him the neatly folded and stamped letter in his old hand, he couldn’t imagine what she could possibly say to him that she couldn’t say to her husband, or her damned lord. 

 

_Dearest Cousin, It read._

 

_I am in a state of emergency. With greatest care of circumstances I write to you. You are the only man of family I have left to trust, be it of blood or name._

 

_In the middle of the night I will wait for you to come to me. At 43 Flinders Street, the muggle park close to our ancestral home in Islington._

 

_You have no obligation to meet with me, darling Sirius, however I will beg you to consider it._

 

_The lives of my family are in your mercy._

 

_Kindest regards,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Narcissa Malfoy (née Black)

 

It was Dumbledore’s mercy she should be thanking, without it the letter would have fed the fire and that would have been the end of it. 

 

He watched her now, unbelieving and blunt in his bored gaze, but the way she glanced down to furrow her brow at her plainly lain hands on her lap and the way she chewed at her full, and round lower lip had him unwind the tight coil of his arms over his chest ever so slightly. This was so unlike her. She seemed so vulnerable. 

 

“Draco presented last night.”

 

He stayed quiet, waiting for the rest of the explanation. 

 

“He - ” She rose her attention back to him, unrest rid her expression of any peace, “he has presented as an Omegan child.”

 

Sirius uncrossed his arms only to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck, he made a little embarrassed sort of noise before saying, “I understand that that may not be - erm - ideal. Considering it’s a little… unconventional. But surely this isn’t a crisis, Narcissa.”

 

Narcissa looked at him for a moment in confusion, her eyebrows quirked in a funny way so unlike how he remembered her. She shook her head furiously when she realised Sirius wasn’t joking. 

 

“No you fool! This is dangerous. The Dark Lord will not regard him as useful,” there was a tear forming in her eye, making it shine, “He will give him away, or kill him. I cannot let him do either.” 

 

Sirius took the seat next to her and looked out into the playground, considering his words a little more carefully this time.

 

“And why have you asked me to see you?”

 

Instead of doing the same and turning her attention away to look anywhere else, she held her gaze intently at his profile. 

 

“I need you to take him. He cannot stay with me any more, I cannot keep him safe from the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters who come to the estate.Please Sirius, let him stay with you at Grimmauld Place - ”

 

Sirius looked back to her and barked a laugh, rudely and loud in her face. 

 

“Are you joking? If you didn’t already know, _cousin dearest_ , but my home is not just my own. I can’t trust him to not commit to the desires of your Dark Lord, even if he thinks of Draco as nothing more than a little - ”

 

“ _Don’t._ ” Her eyes fierce. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

 

Their eyes locked, challenging each other. 

 

“I don’t believe he wouldn’t act to gain favour back with your Dark Lord if given the chance.”

 

“Then take his wand, Sirius. Please. All I need is to be sure no one will know where he is and that he is kept safe and unharmed.”

 

“Unharmed is pushing it…” Sirius started, imagining the reactions of the members of the Phoenix and others related to it who visit or spend time in the home. 

 

“Will you say yes?” She pressed, unwavering. “Will you say yes, Sirius?”

 

Sirius was quiet for a little while, and he could tell that was causing his cousin more and more distress as the minutes passed. 

 

“Sirius - ”

 

“I’ll take him,” he said finally, not facing her but his eye did give her a side-long considering glance, “You’ll give me his wand before he comes. He’s under my control and he’ll do as I say.”

 

He could see her wince at his demands, knowing it’ll be hard for her to convince her little lippy prince from taking orders from anyone, especially a dirty, traitorous Black. He smiled smugly, pleased into thinking he’s got her, but the smile slips from his face and she’s staring back at him with determination. 

 

“Tonight then.” 

 

Sirius spluttered, “What?”

 

“I will send him to you tonight. He has to leave as soon as possible before any one else finds out.”

 

“I - er - ” Sirius scratched at his dark, bearded jaw. “Alright. Port-key then?” 

 

“Yes,” His beautiful cousin turned away then, and pulled something out of her small feathered clutch. It was a wand. Sirius tensed in that moment, his own hand itching to pull out his own. But Narcissa merely turned back around to him and presented the handle of the wand, it wasn’t hers but Draco’s. 

 

“You had it on you this whole time?”

 

“If I were you I would have made the same requests…” 

 

Sirius took it in his hand, felt the tickle and vibrancy of Draco’s signature youthful magic. 

 

He looked up at her to see her lifting away from the bench, brushing off the flowers that had fallen onto her skirt and into her hair. 

 

“Goodnight, Sirius. Thank you for saving my son.”

 

There was a spark and crack and she disappeared. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_Present_

 

 

Draco gasped as he suddenly hit the ground, his knees stung at the impact. Opening his eyes he could see dark wooden floors, almost black. He looked up and around to see where his Mother had smuggled him. 

 

His Mother had come to him in the middle of the night, sitting at the foot of his bed and urgently rousing him from sleep with a touch to his cheek.

 

_“Wake up, darling. I need you to wake up and get ready.”_

 

_Sleepily he sat up to see the house elves behind his Mother stuffing his trunk with his clothes and personal things._

 

_“What - ?”_

 

_She pressed her hand to his mouth softly, hushing him to silence. She tucked a short strand of ice blond hair behind his ear as she continued:_

 

_“You have to leave tonight, Draco, it’s not safe. If anyone is to find out about you, I won’t be able to protect you.”_

 

_He studied her face for the slightest crack in humour. He came up empty and all he got was her eyes steadily watching him back, expecting._

 

_“Where am I going?”_

 

_His Mother’s white face ducked a little, her eyes slightly averted. Draco’s own eyes narrowed._

 

_“Where am I going, Mother?” He tried again, gripping the bed sheets tightly._

 

_“With Cousin Sirius, Draco. My sweet boy. You must trust me. I’ve placed your wand in his care.”_

 

_“Sirius Black?” Draco was furious. “How could you? I won’t go!”_

 

_Narcissa’s voice was hard and stern, “You must. They will know what you are, Draco. Once the Dark Lord comes to our home he will smell you as he comes through the door. I don’t know what will happen to you once that happens…” The lines around her eyes softened, but her eyes still glittered with grim truth. “If you are to stay, your death or imprisonment to a Death Eater is sealed.”_

 

_“Imprisonment?” He pressed, throat tight and sore from holding back a sob at the reality crashing down around him._

 

_“You might be bonded off for mateship. To Mister Yaxley or - ” Her brow wrinkled, “ - or to Fenrir Greyback. Which is a death sentence of itself Draco. So please you must go. Don’t let them use you. You are not only your sex. You are a beautiful, intelligent, and witty young boy with so much of his life still left to live for. Live for me until this is over, my love.”_

 

_She wiped his tears with the back of her hand before she slowly urged him out of his warm bed._

 

Draco blinked his eyes to keep the tears of the memory away, and he tilted his head upwards, still on his knees. It was the Black family’s parlour, decorated in old furniture that looked unkept and rarely cleaned. Why was everything so dark? He wished for his wand.

 

As if on cue, the chandelier on the ceiling glittered awake slowly, and the room filled with light. Sirius Black was standing at the doorway, hip resting on the frame and arms crossed, watching him.

 

Draco quickly rushed to his feet and brushed the dust off his evening robes. He jolted at the sudden crash behind him, and he whipped his head around to see the trunk with his things appear and drop to the ground.He stared at it for a moment to make sure the fall didn’t damage its latch before turning back to the tall, shaggy haired Alpha.

 

_Alpha?_

 

He blinked at the smell, confused. 

 

The pheromones of magical beings was a sense a wizard would come to know when they turned of age, and Draco was still surprising himself at how easily he could percept it. Was this how all grown Witch’s and Wizards went about their day? It felt a little intrusive to know someone could draw so many conclusions about you just by the smell your body unwillingly shared. 

 

He understood the defined biological roles, but his conservative family were a little shy on the details. An Alpha’s presence was so alarming, and it made his body stand a little straighter in defence. His slender nose turned up and he tucked his hands behind his back casually. He ignored the blush on his cheeks and how silly he felt standing in the middle of the room in his nightclothes and silk dressing gown. 

 

“Sirius.”

 

“Malfoy.”

 

His toes curled a little at that. 

 

“Where will I sleep?” 

 

“In one of the rooms upstairs.”

 

Draco pursed his lips slightly, and he was about to raise his hand to ask for his wand but he stopped as it twitched. No wand, he reminded himself irritably. Instead the hand swept up from behind him to point to his trunk. 

 

“Would you levitate this to my room then?”

 

Sirius laughed, deep and throaty.His black eyes lifted to the ceiling as if deep in thought, it exposed his unshaven throat and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he hummed.

 

“Hmm, no.” 

 

“No?” Draco snapped. “I can’t lift this damned thing by myself, you bumbling creature!”

 

The man took a step from his rest on the wall, uncrossing his arms to stride towards him. Assured and dominant and every bit as menacing as Draco believed he was trying to be, he felt his palms sweat secretly. Secretly? Was he even so sure? The twinkle of mirth in Sirius’s eyes almost had him believe he was perfectly aware of how Draco felt. It was equally infuriating and frightening. 

 

“Bumbling creature, am I?”  


 

Draco almost lowered his eyes. 

 

“It would take me all night to move this to the second floor,” he said through gritted teeth. 

 

“Then you best get started.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Draco’s cheeks were red from exertion, and his sleep deprived brain drained his limbs of any remaining strength. He could feel his brow bead with sweat and parts of his fine, wispy hair was plastered to his forehead. 

 

He had managed to drag the trunk to the entryway of the sitting room - and it had only taken him, he glanced at the clock on the wall, ten minutes. Sleep was tugging at his mind. 

 

Sirius had taken to a new observation post at the mantle piece, arms recrossed and smugly watching him like he had all the time in the world. But there was something else in his expression that he couldn’t quite place, and frankly Draco didn’t want to stare at his face for too long to find out. 

 

With his back still turned to Sirius, not daring to pleasure him with meeting his self-satisfied stare, he huffed, “Will you at least lighten it?” 

 

“What’s the matter, Malfoy? You haven’t even managed to take it out of the sitting room yet.”

 

“I’m tired!” He shouted, turning around then. “This is unfair!” 

 

Sirius was about to say something then but Draco interrupted him.

 

“Forget it, I’ll leave it here. If you won’t take it up after me then it stays.”

 

He swung his body around and began to gait out of the room, pleased with himself for having the last word. His foot had just made it out into the hall-way when he felt a large hand grip his shoulder bruisingly and twist him around with enough force he wasn’t sure his feet were facing the right way. Sirius’s face was so close, and his nostrils flared as this uncharacteristic rage surged through him. His fingers were gripping Draco so tightly he yelped in pain. 

 

Draco could only stare back at him in stunned silence, his face reacting to the sting in his shoulders. His throat ached and he had to fiercely restrain himself from exposing it - Why? He was so confused. And afraid. And _tired_. 

There was a growl bellowing deep within Sirius’s barrel chest that was almost inhuman. The puffs of breath from his panting mouth was waving strands of Draco’s hair off his face. 

But just as suddenly as the aggressive character lashed out it retreated, and there was a horrified realisation settling over the man’s face in its wake. 

Without saying a word Sirius released his hold of him, and Draco ran. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The door, where was the door? 

The halls were a network of similar looking passageways, the paintings that lined every wall were of the same stern-looking Witches and Wizards. They watched him critically, the disapproval was ringing as they tut and harumphed after him as he passed  - _running in the house like an ill-bred, mouth-breathing mudblood? For shame, boy!_

Tears were filling his eyes and his vision swam. Draco wanted to go home, he wanted his Mother. Had she known she would never have sent him here. Had she known...

He sprinted into an intersection and nearly tripped on the old Venetian-style rug when he spotted what seemed to be a spacious foyer, and at the very end a black door. Draco gripped the handle and tried to pry it open. He jiggled it viciously, his hand going purple and white at the knuckles, but it didn’t budge. It didn’t even so much as shake at the force.

Before Draco could allow himself to sag to the ground in defeat he heard a small, sheepish cough start behind him. He turned to see Sirius again, and his anxiety muddled his brain to the point he wasn’t so sure if the man was even speaking. He did, however, understand the plain gesture of surrender when his wide, calloused hands rose upward to expose his palms.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I was only teasing at first… Was supposed to be in good fun. Your suitcase is upstairs. It’s the third to your right.”

He was grumbling and he was standing so stiffly that his awkwardness made Draco avert his eyes for relief.

Draco said nothing as he brushed past him - he pretended not to notice the way the man’s head snapped following his direction, or the way he audibly inhaled as if it was his last breath as he walked by – and headed towards the stairway.   


 

 

* * *

 

 

  
The bedroom Draco found his luggage in was a far cry from the bright and modern design of his own. Its sitting furniture had dark, bog-green upholstery with black and silver thread designs unlike the powder blues and white he remembered in the Manor. The bed was smaller than his own with a canopy so black it reminded him of a funeral veil. 

He sat on it and a puff of dust that had settled reascended into the air. 

Draco touched his throat in thought, remembering the events tonight. Beneath his jaw had _burned_ at the presence of Sirius baring his teeth at him, like a blistering wound seeking water. 

He stroked it with his fingers where it had hurt most, a spot beneath his jaw. The night he had presented, it had started off feeling bruised and sensitive, but later through the night it had swelled slightly and the mere movement of his neck sent waves and waves down his spine - waves of pain and... Something else. 

It was a month after his birthday, and he was fortunate to be back home for the summer holidays when it happened. Safe in his home and protected by his family.

The family he didn’t know when he would ever see again next, he thought miserably. 

Normally a Wizard or Witch would present by their sixteenth birthday, but it wasn’t unusual to present a year later. Often it would lead to the correct assumption that they wouldn’t present as an Alpha, but the common Beta. Draco had defied expectations, not only of his natural lineage as a Malfoy, the ancient Wizarding Alphas, but of the biological normality in which an Omegan child often presented far younger than any other child. 

He didn’t know what this would mean, how this would effect his life or how to proceed. He didn’t have the time to ask. 

Draco decided in the morning he would seek out the Black’s family library for anything he could use to help himself - that is if Sirius hadn’t gone and burnt it all when he realised he couldn’t read. Stupid old man. 

He smirked smugly at himself, and settled into the stale sheets to sleep what left of the night he had left. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

The afternoon sun was beginning to peak at its brightest, the rays slicing through the crack in the window to burn into Draco’s closed eyes. 

 

It roused him, and as he sat up his body ached so fiercely he let out a physical gasp and whine.  Was he ill? He touched a quivering hand to his forehead, it was warm from the sun but otherwise not feverish. 

Draco eventually rolled out of bed and he staggered gracelessly to his trunk. As his hand touched the latch it recognised his magical signature and it opened with a pop, the lid bursting away to smack onto the wooden floor in front of him. His Mother had designed the lock only to open for him, and him alone. After a few minutes of indecisive rummaging he decided on a high-neck yet casual maroon coloured robe. It was soft in his hand and it still smelt of home. He slipped it on  and considered himself closely in front of the grimy cabinet mirror, his hair was slightly out of place and his face was a little flush, but despite that he was presentable. He was also surprised to see he had left his family rings on when he had slept; looking down he admired them, silver bands on his thumb, middle, and index fingers. All were uniquely designed to represent a great Era of Malfoy history through the stones and design work, his favourite being the Cobra that hugged his long white thumb.

His admiration turned to shame when he realised a ring would never be made to honour him. He took his lower lip between his teeth and started to work it, causing it to swell and go dark pink. What would happen to his name if he were to marry? Had he doomed his family out of existence?

He shook his head - ridding the mortifying thoughts in his mind like a Crup shaking water out of its fur - then he tucked his hands into the pockets of his robes, making a bee-line out of his new bedroom.

* * *

 

 

The Black’s home reminded Malfoy of his own in a funny way, perhaps his Mother had been inspired by it when she had decorated the Manor. It was like the Gothic twin sibling, the Manor being her Rococo-influenced, brighter, and more theatrical Doppelgänger. 

It was equally just as confusing in layout. 

Draco had padded the halls several times on the second floor, he found nothing but bedrooms, guest bathrooms, and a study. 

He went upstairs only to find more rooms that seemed unused other than for storage. There was what seemed to be a potions laboratory that intrigued him, but he didn’t risk toying with anything for now, instead cataloguing the route in his mind for future reference. He decided that if there was to be a library it would probably be downstairs, and he reluctantly descended back down to the ground floor that opened into the foyer. 

It was quiet, and Draco couldn’t pick up any inkling of activity anywhere around him. Sirius must be elsewhere, or out of the home - his mood picked up slightly at the thought. 

By the time Draco had found the grand library, he had had the displeasure of becoming far more familiar with the home than he would have liked. He knew which halls contained the meanest paintings and which ones primed and praised him after recognising a fellow member of the great house Black and Malfoy. 

 

The library itself was unkept and misused, to his annoyance. There were sheets of paper that were enchanted to fly high up the ceiling, forgotten about and aimlessly floating from corner to corner. Otherwise, the rows of shelves themselves were full of thick-spined texts. 

He scanned their titles, the tips of his finger faintly brushing over each of them. By the time he had made it to the fourth shelf, he grew frustrated. Books of magical families, potion manuals, digests on dark artefacts and spells. All an interesting read he was sure, but now wasn’t the time.

Draco was about to turn around to scan the shelves again a second time but a thinner, more scrappy book caught his eye at the very end of the last shelf. It was peaking out slightly to tease the front cover: an image of a person’s anatomy, wearing a Wizard’s hat. 

He pulled it out to reveal it was a Hogwart’s text book for Health of Body and Mind. He almost scoffed, wondering who in the Black family could have ever come across something like this. It looked like it was a few generations older than Draco himself, ready to fall apart in his hands. It wouldn’t have even been funny if he were to mention the class to his parents, let alone enroll for the course. Almost as bad as Muggle Studies.

_Magic and Magical Bodies: Origin, Physiology and Behaviour_ , the title read.

His eyebrows shot into his hair line at his luck.  It was peeling at the corners, and the hard paper cover was losing its colour, but it seemed to have all its pages in tact.

He decided to sit in the library to read it instead of bringing it back to his room, and he collapsed into an overly plump leather chair that was stored between the last two shelves. A cloud of dust rose from the book as he split it open, he ignored it and started to scan the table of contents on the first page.  

_ABSTRACT……………………………………………….I_

_CONTENT………………………………………………..II_

_ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS……………………………….III_

**_INTRODUCTION_ ** _……………………………………….1_

_CHAPTER 1: FIRST WIZARDS_

_CHAPTER 2: DISCOVERY OF MAGIC IN THE CELLS_

_CHAPTER 3: GENETIC VARIATIONS, HERITABLE CHARACTERISTICS, AND ADAPTION_

_CHAPTER 4: WITCH HUNTS IN HISTORY AND MAGICAL DECLINE_

_CHAPTER 5: MAGICAL BONDING AND THE BOOM ERA_

Draco paused from reading the rest, and quickly flipped the pages to chapters four and five. 

 

It described how at a critical point in the Magical World’s existence, magical bonding was an inherited measure taken to ensure they weren’t erased as Muggles slaughtered them for decades. The very last Witch’s and Wizard’s underwent a rigorous magical process that meant breeding was guaranteed for generations to come.

 

The sore spot in his neck began to ache a little more, but he ignored it and pushed on.

 

The book went on to explain that a fertilisation cycle was triggered by a Witch or Wizard’s magical signature when at its peak in a tri-monthly period. 

 

Draco’s skin went flush and concern gripped him at the core, he continued to read. 

The scent that he remembered noticing was explained as some sort of hormonal concoction that could physically express a Wizard’s quality in strength, magic… And breeding. 

Draco snapped the book shut. 

It hadn’t explained the symptoms of this fertilisation cycle, nor did it explain how to handle it or, he thought hopefully, avoid it entirely. It also couldn’t explain exactly when was one to know when they would be at their magical peak, or how long the cycle would last, or what effects would presenting late have on this freakish cycle. 

Who could he even talk to for advise? Sirius was out of the question, and the ugly misshapen house-elf he’d notice skulking around the home wouldn’t understand. Could he write to his Mother or would that put her and himself at risk were the owl to be seized? Would they even let him try?

Before he could decide whether to continue reading or to try his chances with  another book, multiple voices started to carry their way through to the library. 

Along with the voices a slurry of smells followed - Alphas, so many Alphas. Too many. Dangerous, his body cried. Unsafe. 

Sweat swept from his brow down to his chin in gut-chilling panic.

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was good to be home, Harry thought happily. The weekend spent with the Weasley’s was always a riot of good laughs and fun, but there was something about the feeling of security a permanent home brought that was irreplaceable. 

In tow through the fire place came Ron and Hermione. It was early evening by now and Harry had offered they spend it with him and Sirius for dinner. Who speaking of…

 

Harry looked around for his familiar face, normally the man would have come to greet them when he noticed the roar of the fire. Instead it was only them, and a faint, unusual smell that hung in the room. Ever since he had presented as Alpha last summer, to the pride of Sirius and all who were close to him who remembered his Father ( - Always just like his Father), he was quick to attention at the slightest things. 

 

Before he could call out to him, the fire place re-animated and its bright flames grew, the red transforming emerald green, and Sirius stepped through, behind him was Dumbledore. He was as tall and spotless as ever, not a dust of floo powder on his white and gold robes. 

 

“Head Master,” Hermione beside Harry stood straighter to attention, looking excited and flustered. “Hello, Sirius.”

 

“Hermione, Ron,” Sirius greeted pleasantly, before casting his attention back to Harry. He was looking offbeat, his expression was grave and lacking his normal confidence. “I need to speak with you.”

 

“What is it?” A weight of unease was settling in his gut, it grew heavier the longer it took Sirius to say anything. The man glanced to his friends, and gave a quick questioning look to Dumbledore at his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

 

Dumbledore smiled, warm and welcoming, before he answered in Sirius’ stead.

 

“No, my boy, nothing of the sort. For the time being Grimmauld Place will be home to one more.” 

 

“Who?” All three Hogwarts students said in unison. 

 

“Draco Malfoy.” Said Sirius, roughly like a rock was wedged in his throat. 

 

Ron immediately laughed, it went up a little hysterically when he realised no one else was laughing too, and it died just as quickly as it started. He looked as if he’d been kicked and was looking at Harry with wild disbelief before looking back to Sirius and their Head Master. “This isn’t some joke?” 

 

“‘fraid not, Ron.” Sirius answered. 

 

“Why?” Hermione asked, she’d placed a comforting hand to Ron’s bicep. 

 

“His Mother asked Sirius if he could.” Dumbledore said plainly, as if what he was saying wasn’t as crazy as Harry thought it sounded to his own ears. “You see, Harry, she was frightened for his life. I convinced Sirius to see her, and we’ve arranged it so that Mr. Malfoy will be able to stay here comfortably for the time being as we decide how to proceed.” 

 

“Frightened for his life?” Ron scoffed, “That’s their own bloody fault!”

 

“You didn’t fully explain why, Head Master,” Hermione pushed, the hand on Ron’s bicep tightened to keep him from possibly bouncing off the walls. 

 

“It is a little bit of a personal situation,” Dumbledore said, stroking his long white beard as he considered his words, “his presentation day was a few days ago. He’s an Omega. ” 

 

No one said anything, they all just exchanged uncomfortable glances. 

 

“His Mother explained that Lord Voldemort would punish him for it,” continued Dumbledore, finally taking a seat on one of the plush sofas. “Sirius is in possession of his wand and Mr. Malfoy at the moment has been keeping to himself, I hear.” 

 

“Are you - I can’t - How could you! How can neither of you see that this isn’t some sort of evil little trick? Wand or no wand he’ll find a way to hurt Harry. Or he’ll eavesdrop on the Order or he’ll figure out the houses wards or - ”

 

Dumbledore rose a hand to Ron to silence him. 

 

“There is no way for Mr. Malfoy to contact anyone on the outside, and without his wand it’ll be very difficult to cause any mischief. As I said we are discussing a more permanent solution for him, but for the time being we have sworn to his Mother he would be safe within these walls.” 

 

Harry could feel rage surge through his veins, he seethed at the fact that Malfoy was getting his way again, at school and now in his own home. The nasty little rat. He tossed the ruck sack he had slung over his shoulder with his night clothes onto the nearest chair and silently stalked out of the sitting room. He could hear everyone continue to discuss, or argue in Ron’s case, behind him. He ignored them to follow the scent he noticed the moment he’d floo’d into the house. 

 

The scent was stronger than he realised, the honeyed aroma overwhelmed the halls. He was almost about to pass the library when he noticed the grand doors were closed. He approached it and attempted to push it, but there was something jamming it shut on the other-side. 

 

“Open the door, Malfoy.”

 

There was a creak from the door, as if Malfoy was adding more weight against it, possibly his own body.

 

“I said open the door!”

 

Malfoy was a lot closer than he anticipated when he heard the firm and defiant: “No.” 

 

Harry snarled and smacked the wood deafeningly with his hand. The candied, over-ripened fruit smell was making him dizzy, it came out in waves through the gap beneath and around the doors. Harry’s heart raced faster the more he breathed it in. 

 

“Open the door or I’ll blast the damned thing down!”

 

It was quiet and the moment was tense for a few seconds, Harry reached for his wand and he was about to start counting when Malfoy spoke again, this time less defiant and more cautious. 

 

“How will I know you won’t hurt me?”

 

_Hurt you?_ Harry slowly released the hold of his wand. 

 

* * *

 

 

Inside the library, Draco was breathing heavily at the anxiety bubbling up in his chest. He’d shoved the closest armchair underneath the handles of the double doors. Now he was pressing his back to it for added measure, and after blurting out the vulnerable question he had slid down to the floor.

 

Potter’s fury reminded him of Sirius from last night, his anger like thunder and lightening. Why was every Alpha he defied so enraged? The skin at the curve of his shoulders where Sirius had grabbed him still ached, the robes that shifted caused a slight sting every so often - were he to let Potter in how could he stop him from hurting him too? He was wandless and the pain in his whole body was worsening by the hour, he could barely stand now, and another alien pain was beginning to bloom between his legs. 

 

 

“You’re the one who’s up to something, Malfoy!” He heard Potter shout after a few seconds later, he followed it with another bang against the door - it rattled the wooden frame. “Why are you in there!” 

 

“I’m not a prisoner,” Draco hurled back icily, “I can go anywhere I please.” 

 

Another bang, harder and louder, as if Potter had stomped on the door with his foot. 

 

“ _Open the door_ ,” Harry said viciously, almost a whisper. 

 

Draco rested the back of his head against the door, he drew in a shaky breath. He couldn’t. He didn’t think he could even stand anymore. 

 

He shut his eyes and waited for the explosion to shatter the doors where they stood. 

 

It didn’t come, instead the leather armchair he used to hold the door closed glowed brightly before lifting away and placing itself back where Draco had dragged it from. He could hear the door to his left slowly creak open. He didn’t dare open his eyes and just braced himself. To be grabbed, or yanked, or..

 

“Open your eyes, my boy.” 

 

Draco did, slowly, and looked up to see Head Master Dumbledore smiling down at him, his hand was offered to him. His Alpha scent was pleasant, like a smokey fire or aged books, and Draco felt compelled to take his hand. The Head Master’s eyes crinkled and they glittered in the hall’s light, it was a little hypnotic. What the fuck was wrong with him?

 

Before he could lift his hand, a sudden sharp pain erupted from the spot between his legs, and he instinctually shut his thighs together tightly and he let out a soft whimper. 

 

“What’s wrong with him? Why does he… What’s that smell?” Weasley said, he was gathered at the entrance of the library along with the others. He could still notice Weasley’s Alpha scent, it was like potting mix and it made him uncomfortable to breathe in. Draco couldn’t tell how many more people there were as he had to shut his eyes again at another whip of piercing pain shooting up his body. There were too many people, too many smells, it was making him sick. 

 

“It’s his heat, Ron.” Granger whispered loud enough for the words to carry through to everyone. _Might as well have just shouted it, stupid Mudblood_. 

 

Another cramp, a louder whimper. 

 

“His heat?” Potter said a little dumbfoundedly. 

 

“Enough,” Dumbledore said, he stood up straight. “Call Kreacher here to take Mr. Malfoy back to his bedroom.” 

 

There was a crack by his side, a cold skeletal hand gripped his wrist, and Draco was apparated back into his room on his bed. 

 

“Master Malfoy best beware. Wizards were looking at him like they could gobble him up.” Another crack, and the house-elf was gone.

 

He was right, Draco thought fearfully. He wasn’t safe. He was losing sense of himself and he was terrified to think of what would happen to himself when he reached the peak of this heat the Muggle-born so matter-of-factly described this torture as. 

 

To his relief the pain that had flooded him was retreating and only a shallow ache was left in his belly and around his neck. It was as if all the Alpha’s present were triggering it. 

 

He decided he would try to leave again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly beware, this has some heinous non-con smut and if that makes u queazy i suggest waiting for the next chapter.
> 
> edit: also crap i know harry doesnt find the halfblood prince's book until his 6th year which he hasnt even started yet.... BUT lets just pretend he already had it in his 5th year.... ;-)

 

 

It was late into the night, every so often Draco had stuck his head out through his door to listen in to the noises from the bottom floor. Eventually every last voice had retreated away and what was left was the stillness of the night.

 

On his back was a small black, strapped pouch; in it were the few spare things he could fit inside, seeing as he was without the magic to shrink them. He wore the least conspicuous clothes he had - a black cotton jumper with the Slytherin symbol embroidered on the front, and grey slacks. Muggle in all its bland glory. 

 

The floor boards creaked and groaned softly under his feet, but otherwise nothing else stirred. There wasn’t even a ward or locking charm on his bedroom door, obviously assuming he was in too pathetic of a state to do anything. His lip curled, he hated them all. 

 

The same black door greeted him in the foyer, darker now without any lights, so dark it almost looked as if there wasn't a door at all, just emptiness. The silver handle glittered slightly but he didn’t attempt to try and pull it open again. 

 

… _A Witch or Wizard’s magical signature when at its peak in a tri-monthly period._

 

He looked down at his hands, almost white against his black sleeves, and curled them into fists. If he was getting close to his magic’s strongest state, he had to be confident enough in his skills to get this door open. Wand or no wand. He could feel the heat was at least a day away, and Draco wasn’t planning on cowering in a corner in his room when it happened for the blood traitors to come and hurt him. 

He pressed his hands to the door and focused. He shut his eyes and listened to the magic that vibrated off the wood - several protection wards were in place, all unique and very expertly made… And all for anyone attempting to break in, not _out._

 

_Alohamora._

 

The door clicked open and Draco could have sobbed in relief on the spot. Instead he turned back to look over his shoulder cautiously before pulling it open. The sweet summer air hit him pleasantly, and he took off into the muggle city in a sprint.

 

* * *

 

 

_ Earlier That Night  _

 

Harry was pacing the sitting room, his hair was wild from him tugging and running his hands through it every couple of minutes.

 

Dumbledore was lighting his pipe and taking a couple of puffs to kindle the tobacco. He coughed politely into his fist before easing into the same sofa as before.

 

“As you can see, harmless and only in need of a place to stay.” It was bizarre to hear the hint of discomfort in his wise and thoughtful voice. “I’ll owl Severus tonight, I’m sure he’ll be able to ease Mr. Malfoy’s - ” Another cough into his fist, “ - Situation. Perhaps a calming drought.”

 

“He can’t stay here like that! It’s - it’s indecent.” Ron’s face was flushed, he was furiously staring into the glass of water Kreacher had brought him. The smell of Draco’s emerging heat had gotten them all a little flustered, except for Hermione, who couldn’t smell a thing. When Harry had presented and their magical biology was explained to him in greater detail, he learnt that often Muggle-born children would only ever present as Beta. Betas could not produce or smell pheromones.

 

Hermione petted Ron’s red hair soothingly. “He wouldn’t be like that all the time, Ron.” 

 

Sirius was sitting in the single-armchair beside the fireplace, his black hair was glowing bronze in the flickering light. He was resting his face in his palm, his elbow propped on the cushioned armrest. 

 

“I…” He started, “I wasn’t myself last night when he arrived.” He looked up at everyone before turning back to watch the fire. “I haven’t been alone with an Omega for a very, very long time. There’s not very many of them left, is there. No purpose for them anymore… They only cause trouble.”

 

Harry stopped pacing. He glanced at Professor Dumbledore. 

 

“That is no fault of his, Sirius.” The Head Master urged. “All we can do is give him the opportunity to feel safe to the best of our ability. And _welcomed_.” His eyes flashed warningly, the mood in the room shifted to yield to his Alpha gaze. 

 

Ron rubbed his face and Hermione looked down at her feet. 

 

Harry looked into the fire angrily, Draco Fucking Malfoy was getting his way again. Special little prince that he was. Spoiled-rotten Omega. 

 

* * *

 

 _Present_  

 

Draco had stopped at a nearby Muggle children’s park, the odd colourful plastic structures were confusing and he worked out their purpose as he sat on a swing. His mind was scrambled, he couldn’t think clearly and everything was frustrating him.

 

He couldn’t return home, not without endangering himself and his family. There was Hogwarts, however he would have to wait until the first week of August before returning. The real problem was figuring out a place to stay for the month and a half. 

 

At least he wasn’t suffocating in Alpha musk - he took a deep, grateful breath. Everything smelt like grass and flowers, he was far away enough from the Muggle’s road that their hideous metal contraptions didn’t blow their fumes in his face. 

 

What he could do was get a hold of an owl, perhaps write to Patsy. Maybe she could send him to one of her family’s summer stay-homes, the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters were unlikely to hold gatherings there. 

 

Draco kicked his feet from the ground to swing again, enjoying the breeze fluttering through his hair. His neck was swollen below the jaw and the ache between his legs was faint, but he was free outside. Free to think, for a while. 

 

“ _So the rumours were true_.” 

 

Draco’s blood ran cold, and he looked over his shoulder to see a large dark figure make their way out of the trees behind him. The outside summer wind was carrying his scent away from the boy’s direction, until now. He reeked of somethingrotten. 

 

“I wanted to believe, _oh -_ ” The electric muggle lights casted a lemon glow on his face, his mouth opened in a smile to show many, many sharp teeth “ - oh, did I believe. Pretty, perfect, little Malfoy.” _Omega_ the word sat unsaid but present.

 

Fenrir Greyback.

 

The Werewolf’s voice was rumbling in his chest, deep and ominous and it sent bullets of sweat racing down Draco’s back. 

 

He began to walk circles around the swing set, dark eyes never moving off of grey. 

 

“I thought I smelt something sweet in that bedroom of yours.” Greyback had pulled out something from his coat, he pressed it against his nose and mouth and inhaled deeply, obscenely. Was…Was that Draco's underwear? “Our Lord had tasked me with finding you. I wonder what my prize will be?” 

 

He stopped just behind Draco, his massive hands came up and held him in place by his shoulders. The black claws on his thumbs were tracing circles on the skin at the base of Draco’s neck, sending shiver after shiver down his spine. The hands skated up the length of his neck to brush over the swollen glands. Draco gasped softly. Tears were welling in his eyes and he was shaking uncontrollably. 

 

“Do you think he will give me you?” The hands were in his hair now, combing the ice-blond strands back. “Do you think our Lord would ever give a creature as foul, and as ugly as me something like you?” 

 

Draco opened his mouth, but no sound came out. 

 

“What if I was to have you now, why wait?” Greyback's hot breath was puffing against Draco’s cheek as he bent down, he inhaled the spot behind Draco’s ear. The Werewolf’s nose, lips, and teeth trailed the fine shape of the shell of his ear, before dragging open-mouthed to the back of his neck, to the sore glands on the left side of his neck. “Wouldn’t you be grateful? I can smell it all. You want a good breeding - "

 

“ _No,” Draco sobbed._

 

“No? It’s all an Omega wants. Or am I too hideous? Vile? How dare I touch this sweet, supple, virgin creature,” Greyback spat. He stepped around now to stare down at Draco, one clawed-hand cupping the side of his jaw in a grossly tender kind of way. Draco could feel his cheeks were hot with tears. 

 

Greyback’s other hand had quietly made its way to Draco’s thigh, and gripped tightly. Before Draco could whimper another plea, he was being hoisted upwards and thrown down unceremoniously onto the grass. He landed in a spot away from the light, any muggles walking late at night wouldn’t have been able to see him at first glance. He tried to struggle upwards and crawl towards the circle of yellow the lamp casted but a hand had encircled his ankle and tugged him effortlessly back into the cold, dark shadow. 

 

“Like a doll,” said Greyback, sinking to his knees and making quick work of pulling off Draco’s grey trousers. “Little thing.” 

 

Draco was rambling incoherent nonsense now, his face was bright red and shiny with endless tears. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t - his neck, his neck _burnt_. The pain between his legs came back ten-fold, agonising and begging for something. 

 

The air that hit his bare skin as his trousers slid off his legs was freezing, as if they were wet - had he…? He dared to look down, and instead of urine he saw something clear and thicker than water running down his legs. He didn’t understand, what was this? What was his body doing? As if to rebel against his own mind, Draco’s body shivered unusually, especially when Greyback unbuckled the front of his trousers to expose his frighteningly massive cock. It bounced and was swollen dark around the head. Oh gods, the tip was almost the size of an apple. 

 

“You’re…So _new_. Look at you,” the Werewolf whispered. A finger dipped behind Draco’s own flaccid penis, and touched something he could of sworn wasn’t there before. Where what used to be alien pain that was sending him on the brink of madness was now sending him on the break of madness because of… He wasn’t quite sure… But his body spasmed in response to it. “I prey our Lord gifts me with you entirely after I reward my efforts with a little taste.”

 

He descended down above Draco, the tip of his cock brushed him slightly _there_.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Draco whimpered one last time. “Not like this.” 

 

The smell of Greyback’s mouth was like raw meat, bloody and hideous and it distracted Draco enough to not notice at first the splitting feeling of the werewolf’s dick sinking inside him slowly. 

 

Draco screamed against the man’s mouth, screamed as loud as he could. He screamed for help and for someone to save him but every sound was only swallowed away into nothingness. 

 

Before he could feel it enter him all the way, there was a bright white flash.

 

“ _Sectumsempra_!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry had woken up from a nightmare - he was running, running towards an enormous black shroud in the distance. Behind him were wolves, or wolf-like creatures, muscled and covered in varying patches of black fur. They gave chase and his legs carried him so fast he wasn’t sure if he was taking in air anymore. Someone was screaming, hard and pitched and so, so frightened. It wasn’t him, he was too busy running. Just as he’d reached the endless black shadow he caught a glimpse of nearly-white hair, white face and rosey at the tips, stormy eyes, and then he was falling.

 

The bedroom floor meeting Harry's face startled him awake, and he aggressively de-tangled himself from the thin sheets caught around his waist. His vision was cloudy and his skin glistened but he was overall okay, and okay enough to quickly pick himself up off the ground.

 

He needed to walk around, clear his mind.

 

His bedroom was on the second floor, there wasn’t even so much as a glimpse of light to guide him.  


 

“ _Lumos_ ,” he cast quietly. The white glow flooded the hallway, he could see all the doors remained shut and the paintings on the walls continued to sleep undisturbed. He walked past Sirius’ room, and faintly caught the sound of his snoring even through the door.

 

Harry continued until he was at the stairway landing, hand on the banister. He looked down and considered making his way towards the kitchen for a glass of water, but instead he turned back to watch the third bedroom to the right. An uneasy feeling was tugging at him in the back of his mind, maybe it was his dream and the screaming figure, he wasn’t exactly sure, but it transfixed him enough to walk up to it. He placed his hand on the door, straining his hearing to catch the murmured sound of sleeping. Nothing. The sweet, honeyed scent was barely there.

 

“Naughty Wizards, wanting to spoil the boy connected to the ancient ways. Kreacher could tell, oh he could tell - and so he _told_.”

 

Harry snapped his head down to the little, cadaverous house-elf, his grey skin looked almost translucent in the wand-casted light.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

He laughed, croaky and unnatural.

 

“Naughty, naughty hungry Wizards. Kreacher knows best.”

 

Harry opened the door; Malfoy’s suitcase lay opened and in a disarray. The bed was unmade and the food left for him from supper was still charmed to stay warm but untouched. Harry nearly gave himself whiplash from turning around so fiercely, he stalked up towards the house elf and intimidated him with his own height and size.

 

“Where is Malfoy? What did you say to him?”

 

There was a flicker of fear in his sunken eyes.

 

“Kreacher told Master Malfoy to beware and be safe.”

 

“ _Where is he_?”

 

“Master Malfoy magicked the door open and ran away.” 

 

____________________________

 

Like in his dream, Harry ran. The lamp lights curved over his body over and over as he sprinted down the street. Using _Appare Vestigium_ on Grimmauld Place’s door, the magical tracking spell, he was able to follow the misty golden trail of Malfoy’s magical signature. It was like long gold hair and it floated in the air weightlessly, untouchable.

 

He’d been sprinting for ten minutes before Harry could make out the end to the trail, the end of it was fluttering sporadically as if lost without its master. It was pointing towards the other side of the road, towards a small children’s playground. 

 

As if on auto-pilot, Harry raced across the empty road and felt the dewy grass under his shoes. He surveyed the playground a little wild-eyed, he strained to watch out for something, someone. He couldn’t make out the halo of pale hair, or the white face rosey at the tips, or - 

 

“ _Please_ ,” someone whined, their voice wobbly with tears. “ _Not like this_.”

 

Harry could see now, tucked away in the shadows beside the swing set, almost hidden entirely by the slides. He made out the shape of a massive back, nearly three times the size of the boy underneath. Malfoy was trouser-less and his jumper was hiked up to expose his chest and belly, his face was paper-white and twisted in fear, his eyes sewn shut as if to pretend his whole ordeal wasn’t happening right now. 

 

Harry rose his hand, wand gripped tightly in his shaky grip. He needed to stun him, he wracked his mind for the words, disarm - 

 

Malfoy screamed for someone, but it was muffled by the lips that sealed his in a kiss. 

 

_Sectumsempra_

 

The force of the spell nearly pushed Harry backwards a step, it jolted his arm and the beam of white that flashed from the tip forced him to squint his eyes nearly shut. The man who smelt of rot and sex was flung away like a heavy rag doll, in the quiet of the night Harry could make out the sound of clothes and skin ripping to clean shreds. He took a step closer, to get a better look, and could see his massive chest was torn with several deep, bloody fissures. He was heaving deep, wet sounding breathes. Blood was covering his teeth and it was running down his chin into the opening of his coat. Harry had a good feeling the Half-Blood Prince's spell could do something, but he didn't know it would do something like _this_. 

 

Malfoy lay there stunned, staring up at the starry sky. His small chest was heaving and his pink lips were parted as he panted softly. Harry could smell him, but the treacle-sweet scent was spoiled slightly by the foul smell of blood and meat. 

 

“Malfoy? Hey,” Harry knelt down to pat him gently on the cheek. “Can you stand?”

 

His big, silver eyes rolled back down from wherever they were staring off to to meet his gaze. The tears in them were catching the light and they almost glowed. 

 

“Huh?” He said dumbly. 

 

“I need you to sit up, Malfoy. I’m taking you back. Come on, up.” Harry gripped his shoulder to ease the other boy upwards, until he was propped on his own elbows and competent enough to stay that way by himself. Harry left him to make himself decent and instead made his way back to who he now recognised to be Fenrir Greyback - the Werewolf well-known for his loyalty to Voldemort and his cause. He must have come here to find Malfoy, perhaps tipped off or at least familiar enough with Grimmauld Place to know vaguely where it could be. 

 

Harry bound his hands with rope he transfigured from the torn pieces of bloodied clothing on the ground, and lit off a red flare upwards to the sky. It was unseen to the normal muggle eye unless they focused, otherwise it was a beacon to any Aurors scouting the area. 

 

When Malfoy had finally pulled his trousers back up and his jumper down - Harry wasn’t sure if he had finished sooner, as he had kept his back to the pale boy to give Malfoy whatever modesty he had left - he was attempting to stand up. He was wobbly and stacked it over the grass a couple of times, hands breaking his fall against the wet grass. Harry kept his distance, letting him accomplish it on his own out of respect. Or was he just too afraid of breaking him? He wasn’t sure. 

 

Malfoy stood to his full height - which wasn’t very impressive, at least compared to Harry who was a head taller - and wiped his blotchy, tear stained cheeks with the back of his hand. 

 

“Do you - ” Harry started.

 

“I’m _fine_.” Draco bristled. His hair was untamed and nothing like Harry had ever seen it at school, always so smooth and deliberately styled. There were blades of grass sticking out of it. 

 

“I could - ” Harry tried again, he rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“I said I was _fine_!” Draco barked, he shoved his shoulder against Harry roughly and made his way across the edge of the playground to the road, clearly set on walking back to Grimmauld Place without his assistance. 

 

Harry could only give one last final glance to the bound Werewolf on the ground, he sent off another flair with his wand, and jogged after Malfoy’s retreating back. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slow burns are so painful to write!!! but the most satisfying to read!!!
> 
> also please dont take my drawings as literal interpretations of the story, i just like to illustrate. ;)

 

 

Draco watched himself in the mirror. His hair was darker at the tips and curling around his ears from the bath, his lips and cheeks were pink from the steam, his eyes were bloodshot and swollen slightly from crying. 

 

In the bath, he had touched the new folds of skin behind his penis. They were soft and hairless, still slippery from the reproductive fluid that it copiously dribbled. He slipped a finger inside, and immediately plucked it out with a startled gasp - the memory of Greyback pressing in his own finger flashed in his mind and he ducked lower into the hot water in shame. His new organ brought pleasure he had never felt before, and he was too horrified by it to give it what it wanted. 

 

Now as he stood, naked and dripping, he could feel the slick ooze out again from him in regained vigour. It ran down over his thighs and between his calves to the floor. Draco stared at it numbly. 

 

“Malfoy?” It was Potter, behind the door. He never left. 

 

Potter had followed closely behind him all the way back to the house, all the way up the stairs until Draco had shut the bathroom door in his face. Draco'd slid down onto the floor and stayed there like that for… He didn’t know. He didn’t know how long. It was until his joints ached and his skin was impressed with the patterns of the tiles.

 

Draco didn’t say anything, he didn’t have the voice to. He looked back up at his reflection, as if asking the blurrier Draco for guidance - or to take his place. But it only stared back at him with the same weighted expression he could feel pull on his own features. 

 

He picked up a towel and attempted to mop up his dripping lower-half before wrapping it around his waist. He went to the door to pull it open, and Potter was there. Standing in the doorway with a stunned look on his face, as if he hadn’t expected Draco to ever come out again. He wished he could, but he knew someone would drag him out eventually. 

 

Draco tilted his head up to look at him, and really looked at him. 

 

His glasses had fogged up from the steam in the bathroom, but he could still make out the bright green eyes watching him back. His famous scar was hidden underneath a mop of black curls. He had grown and chiseled out since Draco last saw him in school, his jaw was squarer with the slightest hint of scruff around the chin. He realised he never got a chance to focus on what Harry smelt like until now, like polished wood or a newly opened bottle of ink. Nice things. 

 

Draco frowned, repulsed with himself. 

 

_“Wouldn’t you be grateful? I can smell it all. You want a good breeding.”_

 

Was that all his body was for then? A walking incubator that would open its legs the moment someone smiled or was kind to him… Or would they just open for the sake of opening, regardless of whom to. He didn’t want to be bred, that much was certain. In his mind at least. No one was going to touch him again, regardless of what his body cried for. No matter how much his glands or his new sex hurt him for refusing their purpose. He would refuse until his body submitted and was loyal to the mind, not the Alphas. 

 

“Are you going to get out of my way, or am I going to have to push you out of my way?” 

 

Potter looked startled. _Good_ , Draco thought smugly. 

 

However the taller boy continued to stand still, and Draco opened his mouth to hurl another sharp comment but Potter beat him to it.

 

“You’re dripping…” 

 

Draco felt his face flush red hot, and he looked down to see the slick had returned in full force, pooling around his feet. He looked back up to see Potter was watching it too, a glazed look in his eyes.

 

“I - ” Draco started, his heart hammered in his chest, he couldn’t make any words. He silently cursed Potter for his inability to be at least a little discreet. “ - I - ”

 

“Where is it coming from?” Potter asked, he took a step closer. A step too close.

 

Draco shoved at his chest as hard as he could, minding his feet to prevent himself from slipping on the puddle beneath him. Potter staggered back slightly.

 

“ _ENOUGH_.” Draco screamed, before turning away sharply and retreating to his bedroom a few doors down.

 

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Harry was sitting at the dining table with Sirius for breakfast.

 

The table was set up with an unusual amount of food, of all sorts and flavours. Sweet treats were plated next to cereals and cereals were next to soups and so on. Sirius didn’t know what Malfoy would like and instead of asking him he just decided to have Kreacher make everything.

 

Harry was picking at his buttered bread on his own plate.

 

Sirius coughed slightly.

 

Normally breakfast with Sirius was a very pleasant affair, with stories to share and jokes to tell. But this morning they were waiting for Malfoy to make his way down to join them as well, after sending Kreacher up after him. Harry hadn’t told Sirius about last night, he would have, if things turned out differently…

 

Harry had acted very unlike himself when he brought Malfoy home. It made him uncomfortable and to be honest he wasn’t looking forward to having Malfoy join them at all, and a small but very agreeable corner of his brain thought it would be best if the other boy would just refuse and stay in his room. 

 

The stairway creaked lightly with footsteps, and in the next moment Malfoy had come through the grand entry. He was looking better than he had yesterday; his eyes were without the painful red rings around them from crying, his hair was swept neatly to the side, and he was wearing traditional black robes with emerald green embroidery running from his arms to his shoulders. The black made his skin all the more paler and his hair whiter than normal, but despite all the black it didn’t hide the pink that highlighted the tips of his ears, nose, and cheekbones. 

 

“Good Morning,” Malfoy said flatly. He took his place opposite Harry at the table and laid out the white cloth on his plate over his lap. 

 

“Mornin’” Sirius said into his mug of black coffee. 

 

“Hey,” Harry said a little awkwardly. Malfoy flashed him a look but otherwise said nothing and tucked into a small bowl of oats and fruit. 

 

Both Alphas were squirming slightly in their chairs, Malfoy was most likely on the eve of his upcoming heat, and the smell of him was like someone had sprayed perfume in their mouths. It was too much and it made it a little hard to breathe. Sirius gave off another cough. Harry rearranged his trousers slightly underneath the table, they were beginning to grow a little uncomfortable and tight. 

 

Malfoy slapped his spoon on the table, causing the plates and bowls to rattle slightly. Harry and Sirius looked up at him, his marble smooth face was twisted in an ugly scowl.

 

“If neither of you can stand to be in a room with me, why did you ask me to join you?” He asked hotly. 

 

“It’s polite,” Sirius answered. Malfoy flushed slightly at that and glared down at his half-eaten breakfast. It was almost as if Harry could smell the shift in his mood, it made the honey go sour when he was upset. As if he noticed it too and to amend the rift, Sirius placed his mug back down and angled his body towards Malfoy. “Do you have plans today?”

 

The boy looked honestly surprised at the question. 

 

“No,” he said slowly. “No plans. I might go read.” 

 

“I can bring you back some books, if you like. If you have requests.” 

 

Malfoy didn’t turn to look back at him that time, he only took a sip from his tea. 

 

“I’d like more books relevant to school.”

 

“What classes do you take?” Sirius leant in, his elbow propped up on the table and his chin was resting on his palm. Harry eyed him a little suspiciously, and so did Malfoy by the looks of it.

 

“…Charms, Transfiguration, and Alchemy.”

 

The man whistled approvingly. “Three NEWT subjects? You must have done very well in your OWLS.” 

 

_What was Sirius playing at?_

 

Malfoy popped a strawberry in his mouth, it bled over his lower lip and he licked it clean. He looked pleased. 

 

“I was the second highest in our year.” 

 

Harry knew better than to say who he was bested by, and it seemed that Sirius did too as he didn’t ask. 

 

“What do you plan to do after school, then, _Draco_?” Sirius said in almost a purr, the corner of his mouth tugged in a lop-sided smile. 

 

_Draco?_

 

Malfoy’s eyebrow furrowed and he looked a little confused, and were he not a little bastard the expression could have been described as cute. 

 

“Erm - ” His grey eyes looked up to meet Harry’s, they looked like they were searching for something, maybe answers to the same questions Harry himself was asking. Harry only shrugged back at him. “ - I - Well… I’m not sure. I originally wanted to study further and perhaps try for Magical Law.” 

 

“Magical Law? How very astute of you.” The blush on Malfoy’s cheeks had deepened, and it seemed as if he was finding it hard now to concentrate on his breakfast. His honeyed scent was stronger than ever, if you could see it it would probably be oozing out of every pore on his small body. 

 

“Yes - I - hm,” Malfoy was unraveling on the spot. It was the strangest thing Harry had ever seen in his life. Sirius was causing Malfoy to fluster over _compliments_? “I - um - I think I’m done now. Thank you for breakfast.” He shot out of his seat as he spoke and turned around to make a bee-line out of the dining room, his red ears as bright as ever until they disappeared behind the doorway and down the hall. 

 

Harry turned back to Sirius, who was grinning at him. “What was _that_?” 

 

The man was laughing now, and it was contagious because Harry started laughing too.

 

Sirius’ eyes were still twinkling with mirth when he finally settled down and spoke. 

 

“Rule of thumb, Harry, Omegas love to be fluffed over. He’s a little shit-stirrer but you pet him right and he’ll be as pliable as warm wax. End of the day they’re all the same.” 

 

Harry considered what he said for a moment.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Harry had come by Malfoy again it was later into the afternoon.

 

Since breakfast he was troubled by Malfoy’s ghostly existence in the house; he interacted with no one, he would wait until halls were empty before passing through, even Kreacher admitted he hadn’t seen much of the other boy.

 

What troubled Harry even more was the fact that he couldn’t just ignore it. His mind was constantly reeling itself back to what Malfoy would be doing - was he plotting, suffering, _lonely_? The more he was exposed to Malfoy and his recently developed Omegan nature the more invested he felt. Sirius was right, they only caused trouble. Wizarding existence didn’t rely on them anymore, plagues and witch-trials were over.

 

And yet here he was, feeling obliged to come back. 

 

_Treacle, honey, syrup_ , Harry’s mind chanted as the pheromones made their way out of the potions room on the third floor. His body almost carried itself through the door and he stopped just short after its entrance. 

 

“What do you want?” Malfoy said, not bothering to look up from the tome he was reading on the potions bench, the leather bindings were beginning to peel and the pages were yellowed with age. A stray lock of nearly silver hair had fallen from where it was tucked behind Malfoy’s ear and it swung lazily. 

 

_I don’t know_ , Harry thought. 

 

“I wanted to check up on you, since last night I thought -" _  
_

Malfoy put up a dismissive hand, still not looking up from his book. It made Harry’s lip curl down. 

 

“Listen, _Saviour_. We’re not friends. In fact I don’t like you. In fact I hate you. Don’t feel compelled to visit me again, and shut the door on your way out.” 

 

Harry stalked further inside the room, until he was a step short of the bench Malfoy was leaning over on the other side. Malfoy was intent on keeping his gaze fixed on the pages, he licked a finger and turned a page. 

 

“Have you hit your head? Shoo.” Another lick, another page. Harry felt his brow twitch slightly, his temper was rising. 

 

“I want you to look at me.” 

 

Malfoy laughed softly at that, he tucked away that stray strand but he made no move to lift his head. Harry could see his eyes glide from side to side as he read. “We all want a lot of things, Potter. My time is not something you will be having any more of. Good bye.” 

 

Harry grabbed the book from beneath Malfoy and tossed it across the room. 

 

Malfoy looked up then. His grey eyes shook slightly from the fury they were containing. 

 

“Get. Out.” The pale boy warned. 

 

“I just wanted to talk to you, Malfoy! I know you need someone to talk to.”

 

“You don’t know what I need. You don’t know anything about me.”

 

Harry hopped over the wooden bench and used his height and size to slightly corner Malfoy in, if the other boy wanted to he could slip and run. Harry wasn’t close enough to scare, just to get his attention. 

 

“I know a lot of things about you right now, it’s a little difficult to ignore.” Harry said in a low voice. 

 

There was something in Malfoy’s expression that shifted, but Harry couldn’t tell from what. It seemed to flicker at a thought and as quickly as it came it passed, and Malfoy only cooly gazed back up at him, his chin tilted upwards slightly.

 

“Is this because you want to fuck me too?”

 

Harry spluttered and took a step back like he’d been punched in the throat. 

 

“That’s it, isn’t it? Just a dog in need of a rut.” 

 

Harry felt his face go uncomfortably hot. He couldn’t say anything, his mouth had lost all its moisture. 

 

“Potter, let me make this clear,” Malfoy took the step forward that Harry had taken back, their chests were nearly touching and Harry could smell green apple shampoo in Malfoy’s hair, the boy’s voice was reduced to a whisper as he continued,“you will never touch me. No one will ever touch me. No Alpha will ever get their cock in me again.” 

 

Harry could only stand there as Malfoy slipped passed him and picked up the book he had thrown aside. Malfoy didn’t look back as he swept out of the potions laboratory to his own room downstairs.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

The moment Draco felt the eyes off his back as he turned the corner he broke into a run, he sprinted so fast down the steps to the second floor he nearly slid and fell at the landing. His heart was racing, he could hear it in his ears and the beats kept pace with his footfalls. It drummed so rapidly it almost hurt and by the time he’d made it inside his room he was gripping it against his chest. His fingers clawed into his black robes, trying to hold and cage his heart in place before it made any attempt to leap into his throat and escape out his wide, gasping mouth. No air was passing through his lips, he realised.

 

_Breathe_. He thought desperately, frightenedly. _Breathe you stupid fool!_

 

He collapsed onto the ground, back to the door, and he sobbed into his knees. The hand gripping his heart was holding on a little too tightly and it began to sting but he didn't care. 

 

He was already on edge from Sirius’ little game at breakfast - humouring Draco with questions and compliments had made him feel embarrassed and humiliated, like he was a first year child. Of course it wasn’t genuine. He wasn’t stupid, he was a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake. But the odd little flutter in his belly from the verbal petting had made him lose his footing, his confidence was disturbed and all wit and cheek on his tongue fizzled out into nothing. Again all Draco could do was just run, run into his room and lock the door behind him. 

 

It was like he wasn’t a person anymore; his mind was meaningless. He was just his hormones, his scents and pheromones, his pretty little role as bearer of children and cock-sheath. When Potter had tried his luck again with Malfoy, all the odd little interactions in this house clicked into place, and he realised he was disliked, but that didn’t matter to them because he could still clearly be fucked. No matter how hostile Draco behaved, no matter how isolated he spent his time here, they would try to pander to him because of his sex. Just a little yappy thing, no substance, no spite. 

 

He hated them both. He hated this house. 

 

As he began to wipe his ending tears away, the anger he felt soothing in a weird way, the Black Manor’s house elf apparated in front of him. 

 

“Master Malfoy,’ it croaked slowly, “Master Black demands your attendance downstairs.”

 

“And if I won’t come?” Draco asked through his crossed arms on his knees sulkily. 

 

 

“Master Black told Kreacher unlike breakfast there are no exceptions tonight.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Draco made his way downstairs - which itself was a struggle now; his skin was fully flushed and his vision would swirl every so often. It wasn’t long now until his heat would come - he found Sirius pacing in the sitting room, the Daily Prophet behind his back. Potter was there too, sitting rather comfortably on the sofa. 

 

Before he could be ordered to, Draco took a seat on the same sofa, but deliberately sat as far away as possible on the other side. Potter tried to catch his eye but Draco wouldn’t let him have it, instead he stared on ahead at Sirius who’d only just stopped pacing. The older man slapped the newspaper on the wooden tea table, the headline article in big enough font for everyone to read.

 

**_NOTORIOUS FENRIR GREYBACK_ ** _: CUT & CAUGHT - PERPETRATOR UNKNOWN_

_ ………..Long due of court malefactor of several infringements, Werewolf and alleged Death Eater, Fenrir Greyback, was found attacked late yesterday evening in Muggle Islington Burrow. Now under custody in St. Mungo’s hospital the investigation continues. Aurors described him to be unconscious and exposed in a play area for Muggle children - his wounds were nearly fatal at the scene. Aurors also believe an alleged rape had taken place, victims unknown and further details are yet to be found in time of publication as Mr. Greyback continues to decline any interview with journalists. No further evidence at the scene of the crime - despite two flares being magically produced via a wand, no magical traces of said wand have been detected…………….. _

 

The image was of Greyback bound to a hospital bed, his face down to his bare chest were covered in recovering scars. He was snarling at the camera and clearly shouting, a vein was protruding on the side of his neck as he strained in his bonds. Draco couldn’t stop staring, the memories were playing back in his mind, the horrifying smell of his body, his mouth, the light scratching sensation of his claws running up his neck into his hair, the sensation of his erect cock sliding in, stretching, filling, screaming - 

 

“ - Malfoy.” Sirius said menacingly, he was in front of the newspaper now. Draco hadn’t noticed him move, or speak until now. 

 

“Hm?” Draco looked up at him, blinking his eyes to clear his mind and to focus. 

 

“Did you leave the house, Malfoy?” Sirius repeated seriously, he was towering over him now. Draco shivered slightly in his shadow. 

 

“I - ” What could he say? If Draco were to admit it would Sirius send him away? Draco’s blood went cold as ice-water at the thought of returning to the Dark Lord now, after Greyback. Because if not Greyback, there would be someone else to take his place. To punish Draco. There was always someone, and if not then he would die. His insolence and disloyalty wouldn’t be forgiven now. A bead of sweat ran from his throat into his high necked collar. He was finding it increasingly more difficult to stay sat upright now. “ - I - ”

 

“I took him out with me Sirius, to have a walk and to see the playground. We were ambushed by Fenrir there, clearly was trying to find Malfoy and take him back.” 

 

Draco could have let out a breath but he held it in. He only turned to Potter who was feigning guilt by looking bashful, looking away and rubbing his neck.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Sirius shouted. 

 

Potter shrugged and scratched the side of his jaw in thought, “I was working up to it.” 

 

“Either you could have died or the Ministry would have caught you using a deadly curse - a _deadly curse_ , Harry!” 

 

Sirius turned to Malfoy then before Potter could come up with a reply and stuck a finger right in his face. 

 

“If it wasn’t for you and your — Merlin’s beard — your _foul sex mist_ , Harry would have never have done something so stupid! You make everyone in this fucking house act crazy!” 

 

Draco felt a tear build up in his eye, but he refused to cry. He refused to show anymore weakness than he already had to. He would not cry in front of them. Instead he stood up shakily, and quietly excused himself from the room. He ignored the calls to his name, they clearly weren’t serious in wanting him to return since no one chased after him, and he returned to his room. With the last remnants of his energy he shoved his trunk to the door to keep anyone from barging in easily and finally collapsed into his bed. The rest of the night that awaited him would be filled with agonising pain with no hope of relief. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The heat was starting. 

 

There was a sensation of ripples coursing through Draco beneath his skin. It ran like an electric shock, like being zapped by a lightning hex. His usual paper-white skin was flushed pink, and shiny from the film of sweat. The sweat did nothing to cool him, and beneath him the black satin sheets were wet from it, and something else. Slick was running fast and hot from between his thighs onto the mattress. He was reminded of the moment in the bathroom, the room was almost steamy and his drenched skin was like a step out of a full bathtub. Except, his body was shaking - it quaked from his shoulders to his knees, he was helpless to the spasms from his muscles. Every twitch and shift hurt, it hurt enough for him to react with the pace of his breath quickening, and every so often a small, subdued gasp escaped him. 

 

Despite it all he refused to touch himself. His hands were curling tightly around what remained of the blanket, the rest having slid down to the floor. On his hands he could see the strength in his grip whenever he peeled his eyes open, the rosey skin of his hands was stark white at the knuckles. He would not let them explore. The pulsing flesh below ached and twisted for touch, but Draco disobeyed. He punished it like it punished him - his identity shattered, his individuality forgotten, his Malfoy pride… 

 

His eyes screwed shut when the sound of a rushed door knock erupted in his ears. It worsened the headache already blooming. 

 

“Malfoy? Are you okay? Is it your heat? Has it started - ” 

 

“ **Fuck off**!” Draco howled into his pillow, it was followed with a full body shiver down to his toes. He would not touch himself. He would not be touched. And no one will ever touch him. 

 

It was a while before the intrusive smell of Harry receded away, finally leaving Draco to gasp and choke against his own drowning scent of need and desperation. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It lasted the rest of the night, going on and on nauseatingly, and by the morning Draco was exhausted and dehydrated. At some point he vomited over the side of the bed onto the blanket below. He smacked his lips slightly, they were tacky and he could still taste Snape’s potion and last night’s dinner on his tongue. He shuddered slightly in disgust and used the back of his hand to wipe his soiled mouth. Draco had found the potion left on his nightstand when he had come back into his room, possibly delivered by an owl sent by Snape himself or Professor Dumbledore. It tasted like rust with the after taste burn of wine, he wasn’t sure how much of it really did help, and in fact he was terrified to know in case the heat could have been a lot worse than it had been. 

 

It was so early daybreak hadn’t started yet, but the sky was lighter from the sun's hidden presence when he looked out the window. He crawled gracelessly out of his soaking bed and made his way to his trunk still at the door. The white silk nightgown he pulled out felt like nothing over his body, and was a little short at the thigh enough that it gave a welcomed breeze over his sore genitals. It was a pleasure to wear and sleep in when he needed something comfortable. 

 

He almost regretted putting the trunk at the door as it blocked his one exit. As he attempted to pull it away to the side, every muscle screamed in protest but it finally gave way and slid along the wooden floor to the wall. Dehydration was winning out over exhaustion long enough for him to know he needed to make his way to the kitchen. 

 

The trip down the stairway was a blur, and he couldn’t help but let out an audible sigh of relief when his bare feet finally brought him to the entrance of the kitchen. The sun was beginning to rise now as it lit the windows behind him orange, his silhouette stretched long and black over the checkered tiles in front of him. Draco didn’t stop to look for a glass when he passed through, not in the head space to bother rummaging now, and instead switched on the tap to drink straight from it. He gulped several mouthfuls and the water ran down his neck and soaked into his nightgown, turning the light white fabric slightly sheer at his chest. 

 

His stomach was growling now, and it eagerly reminded Draco of how famished he was - his stomach empty from puking out its meagre contents. He opened the icebox, the cooling-charm hit him refreshingly in the face and he pulled out the first thing he could find: a carrot. In fact he was abnormally ravenous. He took a bite out of the tip and the crunching sound was a little head-splitting, but he made no action to stop, slowdown, or find something else to eat. He’d managed to make it down to the end of it and was back in the icebox to look for more when he failed to hear the stairs creak behind him until a sleepy voice yawned out his name: 

 

“Malfoy? What are you doing?”

 

Draco pulled his head out of the door, a strawberry between his teeth an an apple in his hand. 

 

 

Potter was still rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. His hair was sticking upwards in every direction possible, and his shirt had ridden up to expose his toned, dark-haired tummy. He made no attempt to hide the fact he had just rolled out of bed, and to be honest if Draco had bothered to look at the mirror this morning he wouldn’t be surprised to find the fact that he possibly looked that way too. 

 

Draco gulped the whole strawberry down in one bite and put the apple down on the counter. “I was hungry,” he said a little bit meekly. He was still trying to find his voice after screaming into a pillow for several hours straight. 

 

Potter was obviously assessing him from head to toe, and Draco felt the need to tug his nightgown a little lower down his thighs. 

 

“How was it?” The other boy asked casually. 

 

Draco felt his brow twitch in anger, and he smacked the icebox closed so hard it rattled in its place. He really wished he had his wand, a pimple jinx would do very nicely right now. “That isn’t any of your business. Merlin, do you have no filter? Must be nice to just say anything you want whenever you want!” 

 

Potter ducked his head slightly, but it didn’t hide the obvious smile on his face. 

 

“What are you gonna do when we go back to school?”

 

Draco felt his belly twist slightly, he didn’t really want to think about that. He didn’t know. He didn’t grace the nightmare with too much time in his mind. Maybe by then Snape would have come up with a far more reliable potion. 

 

“I’ll figure it out when I get there,” Draco said. 

 

“You know if you wanted I could ask Hermione for help? Maybe there’s more you don’t actually know about. I saw the book you’d left behind in the library before, there’s probably better books out there that she would know about.”

 

Draco decided to take a bite out of the apple he’d placed on the counter, listening to Potter was hungry work. He wiped the stray juice from the corner of his mouth. “I’m not interested in her charity. Or yours. Leave me.” 

 

The tall and dark haired boy took a brave step forward. 

 

“Can I show you something?”

 

Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

 

“What is it?”

 

“It’s in my room,” Potter continued, but didn’t take another step forward. “If you trust me.”

 

Draco didn’t really, in fact he didn’t at all. But Potter seemed to fail at grasping what ‘no’ meant.Maybe it was Draco’s mind only being partly present, or maybe it was the way Potter’s eyes glittered with honesty, or maybe Draco didn’t want to give away the fear flickering in his chest - whatever it was, it made him slowly put the apple core back on the counter, grey eyes watching green, and Draco spoke: 

 

“Alright.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They made their way up the stairs, and Potter opened the door to let Draco inside. It smelt just like him, like the polished wood and inks he remembered yesterday, so much that it was a little overwhelming and Draco had to fight the reflex to bring a hand to his nose. The room was disturbingly bright with Gryffindor colours and posters of the Chudely Cannons. A red and gold scarf was hanging off the bed’s canopy. It was messy and disorderly but it seemed welcoming. Draco also noticed the white snow owl perched on a stand nearby, the window opened for her to fly in and out as she pleased. 

 

Draco felt tense and stood by the open door, too nervous to take a step further in. He noticed Potter shrug with indifference, and Draco watched his back make its way to the desk set up nearby the bed. The other boy rummaged through its drawer, and pulled out an old brown parchment. When Potter returned he unfolded it in front of him. It was blank and Draco opened his mouth, ready to tell him off for whatever silly game he was playing at, but the words stopped short when Potter tapped it with the wand he pulled out with his other hand. He murmured out: “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

 

The map bled out from the centre with black ink, and they swirled into shapes until they made out what looked to be Hogwarts, every last detail of it. Draco noticed the few foot prints on the page - Head Master Dumbledore, Argus Filch, and other staff remaining on the site. Some feet we facing, some stood still, was this a live map at this very moment?

 

“What is this?” Draco whispered. 

 

Potter looked up at him. “It’s the Marauder’s Map. It shows you every secret passage of Hogwarts, and where people are.” 

 

“Where’d you find this?” Draco’s heart was beating quickly. 

 

“It was given to me.”

 

Draco couldn’t pull his eyes away, he felt his face go lax and open with sincere amazement. 

 

“Why are you showing this to me?” His eyes flickered back and forth over the map, trying to memorise in the moment every hidden tunnel and corridor he could before the map would eventually be folded back up tucked away again in Harry’s possession.Potter made no move to do so for now.

 

“I wanted you to know that if you’re ever in need of finding somewhere safe, you can come to me and I can show you where you can go. No tricks.”

 

Draco couldn’t help but feel confused. Potter must only be doing this because of his pheromones, but by now after the heat passing they must not be as strong. He could hardly sense Potter anymore, where as before he could tell right away who was nearby and how they were feeling based on their Alpha musk alone. Potter had no legitimate reason to offer this to him, in fact it was a risk - Draco could easily steal this from him now, possibly tell others at school and plot a way to snatch it from him. Harry Potter had no reason in Hell to trust Draco Malfoy. He thought he had made sure to not give anyone reason to trust him, to want to trust him. 

 

“Why?” He asked. It would bother him for the rest of the day if he didn’t. 

 

Potter merely shrugged, and mumbled a quick ‘mischief managed’ to the map he finally folded up in his hands. He slipped it back underneath his desk but he didn’t turn around to look at Draco.

 

“To be honest? I don’t know. But I do know what it feels like to be alone.”

 

The room was silent for a while, Potter’s long and wide back was curved slightly as he stared at the plain face of the desk. The owl ruffled her feathers slightly and it snapped Draco back into reality. He hadn’t realised he still hadn’t spoken yet. 

 

“I can manage perfectly fine on my own,” he said lowly.

 

Potter breathed out a soft and short laugh. “Maybe. I thought I could too, but it’s nice when you realise you don’t have to be.”

 

Draco watched him quietly, and when Potter finally turned around to look him in the eye, all Draco could offer was a slight smile. Potter managed to smile back in return.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you guys cant already tell i just really like drawing draco lmao 🤣idk if i started writing this story just so i could use it as an excuse who knows! either way i also really like writing too and its fun to use both as a tool to express the story. also please feel free to give feed back on the story my way - i do have an overall goal im trying to get to but i do change things up when i get inspired by other peoples vision for the story too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi fellas! sorry for this update taking so long. been really busy! i havent really had any chance to draw either so i might come back to this later and add a drawing or two. unsure of what i want to illustrate tho so thatll be fun to choose.

 

_Last Night_

 

Sirius watched Malfoy storm out of the room, it seemed like he had a habit of doing that. It sort of reminded him of his time spent with his own family growing up, every conversation blowing up in an argument over something, he shuddered to think he was anything like his parents. Instead of chewing on it further he turned around to look at Harry, who still sat in his spot on the sofa, his legs spread and his back slouched over the arm comfortably. He had a look of concern on his face as he also watched after Malfoy, but it turned to guilt as soon as he caught Sirius’s assessing gaze. 

 

“What were you thinking, Harry?” Sirius said, he felt exhausted and on the brink of wanting to just collapse into a chair and call it a night. 

 

Harry scratched his neck again uncomfortably. “Sorry… I thought it would be harmless.” There was something in Harry’s expression that Sirius couldn’t quite place, as if he was struggling to make the words up as he went along. 

 

“Do you think I should reconsider having Malfoy here? Maybe we should send him to Snape.” 

 

Harry sat up right and looked wild-eyed. Sirius couldn’t help but quirk his brow slightly, Harry wasn’t telling him everything, he was a terrible liar. 

 

“You can’t trust him, Sirius!” The boy said with urgency, his words rushing out of him almost incoherently. 

 

“Snape?” Sirius pushed, “or Malfoy?”

 

Harry paused at that, and his face scrunched as he struggled to find the answer. “Snape. Both? It’s not a good idea. Draco could give information to the Death Eaters, he’s surely recognised at least the street Grimmauld Place is on.”

 

“Maybe he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been let outside!” Sirius’s face felt hot enough to blister and he angrily swept the newspaper on the coffee table to the floor, treading his foot over the snarling photograph of Fenrir Greyback until the image was only a twisted shape of flickering lights and movement. Unrecognisable and destroyed. Sirius rounded in on Harry, towering over him as a show of authority, but the boy didn’t flinch once, not like how Draco might have. “Was this just to impress him? Has he really got you twisted around his finger so easily?”

 

Harry was blushing and was staring hard at the ceiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it’s not like that. He’s just some prissy Omega. He’s dramatic and a git and he cries like a big snivelling baby.” 

 

Sirius took the moment to sit on the tea-table, his long legs splayed out slightly in front of him. Harry was all wound up and Sirius could sense the agitation sparking off him like a live wire. What was Harry not telling him, this was so unlike him. 

 

“You didn’t let him out, did you Harry?” Sirius tested.

 

The muscle in Harry’s jaw twisted and budged as he tightened his jaw, but he made no move to look down from the ceiling. 

 

“I went out to look for him, Kreacher told me he left.”

 

Sirius didn’t say anything else, he only stared at his own legs. He’d read the newspaper article at least five times, the evidence and speculation not making sense until now. Malfoy seemed more tense than usual since the library the day after he arrived, and Sirius assumed it only had to do with his approaching heat. He only assumed the frustrating and intimidating situation if being caged in a house full of unmated Alphas would send his already rigid attitude to record heights. Every time he caught the boy in the hallway or stumbled across him in a random room, he looked almost as if he was raising his hackles like a cat. Sirius once cornered him on the stairway landing, to ask him where he was going, and Draco physically repelled himself as far away from Sirius’ body as he physically could, his small torso and back bending away over the banister in an awkward way. 

 

Was Malfoy mated now? Because surely he'd been raped if Harry hadn't been with him out of the house the whole time. He wasn’t exactly sure how to figure that out. The boy’s scent was an enigma in itself, not like the mild fragrance that was both pleasant and alluring, his was a whole new ballgame. It was like a warping monster, angry and venomous, but yet the scent tickled Sirius in the throat, violently sweet and it made his mouth water to the point he was swallowing stone sized lumps. Draco’s heat pheromones were at their peak, making Sirius quick to act, it was for the best the boy kept to himself a lot at this stage. However, normally a mated Omega as he remembered had a faint veil of their Alpha masking them, and as far as Sirius could tell, it was the same sweet caramel. Was Harry now defensive of Draco because of what might have happened? Sirius glanced down at the crumpled newspaper page. Would it be wise to let Draco stay?

 

Sirius passed a suppressed breath through his nostrils in a sigh. He’d drop it tonight. Harry wasn’t responding and he didn’t want the night to drag on longer than it had to. He pushed himself off the tea-table and made his way to the doorway. 

 

“Night Harry, we’ll talk more soon.”

 

Harry nodded slightly, but he said nothing. He didn’t look up from now staring at his feet. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ Next day, Afternoon _

 

 

 

 

 

Draco was sitting on the chaise in the lounge room, the books Sirius had promised were placed neatly in a pile by his side. He was attempting to catch up on what was left of his written school work, only halfway through finalising a theory for transfiguration when the sound of something fluttering caught his attention. He looked up to find the source of it. 

 

A charmed origami crane flew in like a real bird, soaring around in circles and loops in a little show before descending down until it landed softly in Draco’s outstretched hand. The charm ended and the paper unfolded to reveal a message:

 

_Did you know this house had a rooftop?_

 

No, he didn’t. He did remember investigating the house the first day here, but some rooms were still magically locked and inaccessible. The rooms he could enter were mostly just store rooms and unused bedrooms, he wasn’t shocked to find out there were more interesting ones locked away. Draco looked up expecting to see Potter, but was surprised too see Sirius leaning against the door frame - he was struck with the memory of arriving from the port-key, collapsed on his knees and Sirius staring down at him with a self-congratulory smirk. Sirius was in similar muggle-denim trousers that didn’t hide the thick trunks of his thighs, he was nothing like the emaciated and crazed-eyed criminal he remembered in the newspaper, in fact he recovered easily after his new years of freedom. Draco’s eyes rolled up to his chest, which was slightly exposed at the top from his y-neck cotton shirt, the pale grey gave Sirius’ skin a tanner look. 

 

“No, I can’t say I did. Are you going to show me?”

 

“I can, if you like.”

 

“Why, planning to push me off?”

 

Sirius snorted slightly, but made no action to move. “Funny. I never got to give you a tour, did I?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The door was plain and painted green, it was so thin and out of the way Draco could have mistaken it for a small closet. But when the tip of Sirius’ wand tapped the wood it jerked slightly at the unlocking charm, it swung silently inward exposing a long winding stairway leading up somewhere dark. Draco turned slightly to cast a side glance upwards at Sirius, he expected his profile but was surprised to be met with similar grey eyes staring expectantly back at him.  

“After you,” Sirius said smoothly.

 

 Draco felt an involuntary shiver run down his neck and across his shoulders, but he refused to give Sirius the satisfaction of knowing how much of an effect words had on him and only brushed by the older man, chin stuck up and hands balled into fists at his sides.  

The stairs creaked and groaned beneath Draco’s feet, minding the way he stood down in case the wood splintered into his shoes. It wound around in a bizarre sort of way not unlike Hogwarts’ staircases, Draco could have sworn he felt as if it looped and circled several times before arriving at the very top to another door similar to the first one, the same wrinkled green paint on old wood. 

 

Behind him Sirius extended his hand out, it ghosted over Draco’s waist to circle around the brass knob. It twisted with a groan but gave way easily to bask the dark stairway with afternoon sunlight. Most common Wizarding homes didn’t have rooftops, but as he looked he noticed the other houses along either side had the same sort of set up. It wasn’t enormous or decorated with any stylish outside furniture, in fact is was bare and covered in stray fallen leaves from near by parks and puddles of old rain water that refused to dry. It was shabby and exactly what Draco expected from Sirius’ management, but it was a treat to feel the outside light on his skin and to watch the clouds move along the horizon. Muggle London was far bigger than Draco ever imagined possible, the residential homes spanned out so far and so densely around them that it almost seemed like it could in fact go on forever. 

 

“Cool, isn’t it?” Sirius said behind him. 

 

Draco took a step out, and then another, until he was at the balustrade. He put his hands down on it and just watched out ahead, it wasn’t as magnificent or exciting as the Astronomy tower. He remembered sneaking out at night once or twice with Pansy to gossip up there at night, being up here was blooming that same playful feeling that was long gone since presenting this summer. 

“I didn’t expect it,” Draco heard himself say absently, he was devouring the image of the mid-time sun beaming almost red like a fire over the industrial landscape. The muggle architecture was so quirky, he thought, buildings straight as a rod and so plain in appearance - not like even the more complex looking buildings in Diagon Alley, built by magic to be stable with its curves, bricks, points and edges.

 

He could hear Sirius’ feet fall softly to come up behind him again, but the man didn’t say a word and only perused the scenery before them as well. It really was a pleasant surprise and Draco begrudgingly acknowledged the little feeling of warmth towards the man for showing him this. Draco froze mid-thought, turned back to Sirius slightly to watch him lengthily observing the sky, and wondered if this was all it would take to win his approval. Pretty little favours? The man had grabbed him so hard it left bruises that lasted days. He’s shouted in his face and insulted him in front of others over something Draco couldn’t control. He was an old bastard who, just like Harry, was just biologically succumbed to infatuation over his sex Draco had no choice being.

Draco was about to call the little visit to the roof off, to return to his texts and finish off his assignment, but Sirius tilted his head back down again to gaze thoughtfully back at him. Draco couldn’t say a word, the older man’s eyes looked so heavy and sad.

“I wanted to say sorry. You’re a little prick, Draco, your entire family are entitled and live like they’re better than everyone else, but that doesn’t mean it was right of me to say the things I’ve said to you while you’re under my roof.”

Draco’s face felt flushed,  _he_  was a prick? How dare he talk about his family like that. He rounded in on the tall man and just like Sirius had to him last night, he stuck a finger in his face threateningly.

“You’re a bastard! You’re an absolute fucking bastard! I would  _love_ to be staying anywhere else but here – please find me a hole lined with spikes. Or better yet, Kreacher’s dirty arsehole because Merlin knows I fucking hate it here with  _you_.” He jabbed into Sirius’ chest for emphasis.

 

Sirius quickly grabbed his hand in his own rougher, larger one. He held it there by the fingers in place against his chest, Draco attempted to tug but Sirius only squeezed harder in response. Before Draco could even yelp or shout Sirius’ face went hard and Draco couldn’t help but freeze, he braced for something. A smack, a shout, maybe he would make good on pushing him off the roof. He nearly let himself slip his eyes shut but as they started to lower a laugh was bubbling out of Sirius. It started as a soft chuckle but was quickly picking up momentum and swelled to be a lively roar of laughter.

 

“You have such a mouth on you!” 

 

“Wha-” Draco started, he felt his eyebrows genuinely furrow in confusion. The hand holding his pulled him in a step closer, but Draco felt something in his chest urge him to stay still, to watch, and to be mesmerised for a second. His mind fogged and he couldn’t understand what was happening, it was like he was drunk and the edges of the world were going fuzzy, forcing him to focus on the one Alpha in front of him, the Alpha pheromones almost sobering. It was like a rippling pool of water, but the centre remained motionless. It seemed like Sirius hadn’t notice he was pulling Draco closer until then either, and his fingers quickly let go, but the man was still laughing - maybe a little sheepishly now. Draco was horrifyingly coming to the realisation that an Alpha didn’t need to be forceful or exploit his hormonal heat state to have an effect on him, they could just like this. His mind knew he couldn’t stand Sirius, or Harry, but the more they chipped away the versions of themselves Draco knew and remembered it was becoming not quite as easy to slam his emotional doors on them. His mind also buzzed with the familiar telltale of arousal, how could it not? Tall, dark and handsome was a weakness not un-ordinary. But Draco surprised himself when he couldn't feel a thing suggesting it on his body, not even the slightest tingling sensation between his legs. Wasn't that a good sign? Draco couldn't help but feel suspicious. 

 

“I’m sorry for what happened to you. I can’t let you leave, and I can’t give you your wand back, but I hope there’ll be something I can do to make your stay here before you’ve returned to school easier. Honest.” Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. Draco stared into his older face, it was slightly lined with age and sun, but still roguishly handsome with black scruff at the jaw. 

 

A cough suddenly erupted loud enough for Draco to blink away the effect over him, and he took several steps back and out of Sirius’ touch. At the doorway that led back downstairs, Harry was standing there with his arms cross, his lip pulled a little tight and his eyes narrowed. 

 

“Harry?” Sirius started, there was a faint blush on his cheeks but he played it off cool enough, he moved the hand that was left hanging without Draco’s shoulder to casually slip over the balustrade, his hip quirked to the side to rest against it. 

 

“Professor Dumbledore is here, and Snape.” Harry said without missing a beat. “They’re downstairs.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Draco walked into the lounge parlour he first noticed the school books, scrolls, inks and quills he had left behind were neatly arranged on a nearby table. The second thing he noticed was Head Master Dumbledore standing tall in his grey, shimmering robes and enormous Wizard’s hat, fiddling with a charmed gramophone. The old man tapped it a couple of times with his wand like a conductor’s baton on his music sheet stand until it magically began to flow music from it’s mouth, all sorts of instruments all played in a harmoniously peaceful sort of way, Draco refused to admit it quelled the anxiety beginning to itch at the surface of his skin. 

 

Professor Snape was sat stiffly on the single arm chair, all in black, arms crossed. He nodded briefly to Draco but didn’t say a word. It was a relief to see him in all honesty, Draco had missed him. He missed the interesting things his Head of House would say, his guidance and his security. He was very much a stiff-arsed, bitter bastard at times, but hell was he one of his favourites. His Alpha scent was mild, as was the Head Master’s now, but Draco could still make out the smells of herbs and potion ingredients. 

 

“Good afternoon, Professor Snape, Head Master,” Draco said pleasantly enough as he stopped to stand in the middle of the room. He kept his hands folded behind his back and he held his head up high to reveal nothing, his face was impassively blank.Harry and Sirius came in following, and Draco was annoyed to find them both choosing to stand uncomfortably close at either side of his shoulders, almost trapping him. He couldn’t help but feel small in that moment, both the Alpha’s were taller than him significantly, and all he could do was stand as straight as possible to not be lost in-between. He shook his shoulders slightly to shake them a fraction of a step away from him, it only worked slightly, it was like they were both two giant oafs with no sense of personal space for anyone around them. 

 

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, how are you feeling?” Dumbledore said as he took his seat on the sofa beside the gramophone. “I hope Snape’s potion could be of some help providing relief.” 

 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Draco ground out, he felt Sirius and Harry disapprovingly glance at him. He didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought, his heat was personal and the Head Master didn’t have a need to ask him something like that. 

 

Dumbledore only smiled slightly, and nodded. “Very well. I’m sure you have a guess as to why we’re here, then?” 

 

“I have some guesses,” Draco replied quickly, the hands behind his back balled tightly into fists. “But I assume you want to talk about what happened with Fenrir Greyback?” 

 

Snape’s face went dark, his black eyes steady but piercing as they didn’t move a fraction off of Draco’s. Dumbledore gave off another one of those polite, subtle coughs to mask his discomfort. 

 

“Yes, well, we don’t need to get into specifics. For your sake, of course. But we do need to know that you’re alright and aren’t hurt. Your Mother was ensured your safety would be maintained with us. And how are you doing, Harry?” 

 

“Yeah I’m okay, er, nothing happened to me.” Harry said a little dumbly. 

 

Draco stared blankly at the floor, it all happened to him instead, he thought helplessly. The smell of rot rushed into his mind suddenly, but he didn’t dare move, it was all just in his head. Breathe. 

 

Snape suddenly stood to his full height and he made his way to stand directly in front of Draco. Why was everyone so much taller than he was? His teacher stared down at him, the curve of his nose scrunched slightly in a disapproving sneer. It made Draco uncomfortable, was he really so disappointed in him? Was his Omegan nature really so pathetic? 

 

“I will need to assess you, Draco. To ensure your physical well-being is in order and to diagnose any issues that may have gone unnoticed.” 

 

“No, I’m fine.” Draco said quietly. 

 

“It’s not really an option, Draco. Presenting this late as an Omega is unusual at best, and life-threatening at worst. The fact you have also gone through a physically and emotionally traumatic experience is reason in itself to see for myself if everything is in order. I insist you let me look.” Draco was sweating, four Alphas were surrounding him. He was surrounded and they wanted to examine him. To pick him apart for curiosity’s sake. 

 

“Of course,” Snape continued, his black eyes flashed to give quick, critical looks at both Sirius and Harry. A challenge in their Alpha language, perhaps. “It would only be you and I. On behalf of your privacy.” 

 

The tension reverberating off of the two bodies on either side of Draco’s shoulders was suffocating, another word from Snape and Draco wouldn’t be surprised if one of them started to growl, both already had their teeth bared wide in a gritty snarl. 

 

“Come, let’s fix ourselves with some tea in the kitchen and by the time it’s ready I’m sure Severus will be able to let us know if he finds anything.” Head Master Dumbledore slowly rose away from his seat and made his exit without a second glance behind, clearly a show to say the conversation was over and the other two Alpha’s better follow. They did, not without Harry sending an indescribable look to Draco, and Sirius sending a look of wary distrust to Professor Snape. 

 

The lounge doors magically shut behind them and Draco was left alone with his Head of House. 

 

The music was still playing faintly, but it didn’t have the same calming effect it first did. Draco could feel his heart beat wildly in his chest, and he wondered if Snape could smell the fear off him. 

 

“You’ll need to strip, Draco. I need to see.” Snape’s tone was softer now, that look on his face relaxed somewhat. Maybe he could sense Draco’s fear and it was effecting him somehow. 

 

“Do you have to? Can I not just tell you what I feel? What I see?” His hands were shaking slightly. 

 

“It would save a lot of time if you just showed me.” 

 

Draco squeezed his eyes shut briefly, his frustration was making his head hurt slightly now. As he opened them, he stared Snape right in the eye and moved his hands to the buttons sitting high on his throat. He undid the high-necked black robes and removed it off his torso to let it fall in a heap on the floor. He shimmied his trousers down too, and slipped out of his shoes until he was standing in the middle of the room in only his underwear and socks. Get it over and done with, Draco, he told himself, faster it’s done the faster you can hide in your room for the rest of the day. 

 

To his relief Snape didn’t stare any longer at his body than he had to, his expression deadpanned as he only checked for wounds and sores, until he was satisfied and pulled away to say: “And the rest, Draco. Did your vulva develop properly?” 

 

The blush Draco felt was almost painful. He looped his thumbs into the band of his underwear and pulled down low enough to show his flaccid cock, his Omegan sex hidden underneath. Snape only needed to lean down slightly, and without needing to be told Draco spread his thighs apart for a better view. Snape’s wand glowed slightly and it hummed as the man waved it back and forth in his examination. He felt sick. He felt so humiliated. 

“Was there any blood?” Draco shook his head in no. 

 

“Did he finish inside you?” Another head shake, his eyes were watering and Draco sighed slightly through his nose when he realised he was holding a breath. “Have you experienced self- lubrication?” A stiff-necked nod. 

 

He felt Snape’s breath ghost over his genitalia. He was about to take a step back but Snape had already pulled away to stand up again, and Draco immediately took that as his cue to re-dress quickly. Snape was scribbling something furiously into a black leather note book by the time Draco was finished buttoning up his collar. 

 

“Am I okay?” Draco asked warily. 

 

The Professor was quiet for a few moments, until he thoughtfully glanced up from what he had written to look at Draco. “I believe you may be partially bonded.”

 

Draco’s mouth lost all it’s moisture. “What does that mean?”

 

“From what I understand, he has imprinted himself onto you magically. Your magical energy is connected, I believe it is faint, but it is there.”

 

“What does that mean _exactly_? What can I do?” His eyes were watering again. Visual memories of the Werewolf were playing so vividly behind his eyes, Draco could swear he could hear his guttural laugh swimming in his own head. The smell of rot rushed a wave of nausea through him. 

 

“I suppose it’s a matter of time, and to wait for the bond to eventually sever itself. A bond will not physically harm you, but it may make it easier for Greyback to find you if he were to escape… Can you sense him at this moment?” 

 

“No…” He couldn’t say there was any sort of tug or magical tickle of his energy - but Draco alsocouldn’t shake the presence of the Werewolf from his mind. The thought of Greyback often would have Draco waking up in the middle of the night. He wondered maybe if there was more of a reason to it other than it only being traumatic. “What’s going to happen to me?” 

 

“Stop asking so many questions, boy.” Snape snapped, he finished up his note taking and slipped the small book into the inside of his robes. “You can only stay here and wait. It should be significantly weaker by the time the school semester starts. However…” He magicked the quill away. “If the imprint remains, you may want to consider not returning for the school year. Or bonding with someone else.” 

 

Draco ignored that. “How did you figure it out?”

 

Snape snorted and swiped away a black strand of hair that hung too close into his eyes. The man made his way around Draco to grasp at one of handles to the doors that lead into the hallway. 

“An unbonded Omega wouldn’t be able to resist releasing slick as it’s exposed genitals are presented to an Alpha. You didn’t give up a drop, so despite not completing his mateship Greyback clearly did enough to contain you biologically.” He left the lounge to leave Draco to his own devises, but Draco could only stare after him with open, horrified bewilderment.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

 

Draco was feeling totally and utterly alone. With every step he took to manage his circumstance it was obstructed with greater and greater walls. His family, the one thing that meant more to him than anything, was ripped away from him. His freedom and pride was squashed in the hands of the Order. Friendless. Wandless. His bodily autonomy abused.

 

He was afraid to leave the sitting room, all he could do was stand there rooted to the spot, staring blankly at a discoloured patch on the carpet. If he were to leave for Hogwarts when the semester started, and his partial-bond hadn’t severed in time could he risk going? Would they even give Draco the chance to leave for Hogwarts if it couldn’t be undone? He was aware the Dark Lord had a plan for him, a big role to play in Dumbledore and Harry’s deaths, but he had left before any details could’ve been shared. The problem was could he risk going if he knew there was going to be an attack eventually, could he risk being found? What if Fenrir had a greater ability to find Draco using the bond than Draco had of finding him? The inexcusable issue was that were he to be found, or captured, would his new Omega status be a threat to his parents? In fact, how was Draco so sure that news wouldn’t already spread the moment he was to go on the train? Were his parents going to be able to feign surprise at the news convincingly enough to avoid punishment? Or would the Dark Lord see through it—

 

“Malfoy?” 

 

Draco was startled, but he’d managed to compose himself enough to look up with an irked sneer. Potter - Harry? Sometimes - was standing there expectantly at the entry way, like he had been up on the rooftop before, but this time his stance was a little more welcoming and Draco couldn’t help but let his lip uncurl a fraction. He didn’t say anything, he waited for what the Alpha boy had to say. Clearly not as stupid as he made himself out to be, or well trained, Harry gestured with his chin towards the direction of the dining area. “Coming? Teas done.”

 

Draco couldn’t help but stare a little, coming to a blank as to what to say. He was a little apprehensive of being in the same room as Professor Snape, but didn’t want what happened to come up in conversation if he left for his room. Without question Snape would tell Dumbledore, but it was a little harder to gage whether or not Sirius or Potter would be filled in. His mind quickly cast back to his current problem at hand - he appraised the other boy a little desperately now, still not making a word - was it possible to trick his body somehow? Maybe escalate the process it took to undo the imprinting? Could this bond be undone with wit?

 

“Yeah…” Draco started, his movements and eyes slow but his mind going a hundred paces a second. He walked up to Potter lightly on his feet, silently pacing towards him like a spirit in the dark or a panther in a forrest. Draco was also suddenly reminded of their moment in the potions lab on the third floor, their chests up close and their breaths creating movement in each others hair. Except this time the electric energy wasn’t fuelled by anger but something else. Draco tilted his head up an inch to meet Potter’s eyes, the pure expression of blown away amazement so ridiculous on his face. How could someone feel so strongly about every little thing, wasn’t it exhausting? Ever since Draco’s heat finished, the unbearable sensation between his legs had disappeared, there was no slick not even once, his neck’s ache a distant memory, it all felt incredibly liberating, like he was his old self again.

 

“Draco?” Potter’s face was redder than his house’s obnoxious colours.  


  
Draco raised his hand up slowly and pinched some imaginary fluff out of the other boy’s jet black hair. Slow and deliberate, grey eyes remained firmly set on green. The dulled Alpha scent was picking up with fervour, it rose into Draco’s nostrils and it sat heavy on his skin like the heat from an open fire. Ink, wood, a hot bed, sweat, rain. Were this Draco’s first night here, he was sure the power of it all would’ve brought him to his knees in a second, but he was more clear headed now, he was scarred and harder now. That deliriously pleasant drunken feeling that over came Draco like it had on the roof returned, he tried to blink his eyes for a hint of clarity and pushed on. Potter’s cheek was warm and a little rough, his teenage scruff tickling the very tips of Draco’s fingers. Of all the times he _didn’t_ think about touching Harry Potter’s face… 

“ _Draco_?” Potter - Harry, Draco supposed fondly - tried again. His voice was tight with desperation. He was like a wound up spring ready to launch; his eyes were unbelievably wide and  trained steady, his breath passing through his nostrils quickly, his shoulders tense and his hands were obviously itching at his sides. Draco had never had sex, but Merlin, it’s not like he’d ever act like such a _virgin_. Harry was practically fizzling on the spot as Draco ghosted his fingers over his cheek bone, before tucking a strand of black hair behind the shell of his ear.

 

As he touched, Draco didn’t feel anything unusual worthy of notice. His own face was a little warm from the Alpha scent, but it’s proximity or intensity didn’t change the fact Draco couldn’t feel a thing in his sex between his legs, there was no slick build up and there wasn’t that buzzing tingle. Perhaps you couldn’t just trick the body so easily? Or did he need more than to merely be in an Alpha’s presence? 

 

Draco decided he’d stop experimenting for now, unsure of how to convince Harry to stop if Draco was to continue pushing it. He took a step back and used the hand that was running all over Harry’s face to brush the front of his robes. His other hand came to press firmly to his lips as he tried to clear his wound up throat before speaking.

 

“Erm - Yeah. We should go.” Harry wasn’t wide enough to block the entry way, if he wanted Draco to stay he would have had to physically spread himself from his arms to his legs, and he wasn’t going to try unless he wanted to look like a fool. He merely followed after Draco who brushed through to make his way to the dining room. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

When they arrived, the porcelain tea set was floating above the dinning table, spinning in a bouncy, buoyant circle. The teapot in the centre was dipping itself to the four cups, pouring piping black tea into them before the whole set came to settle elegantly on the table. Dumbledore was sitting at the head of the table, his left hand raised and outstretch while his fingers wiggled slightly, clearly performing the spectacle wandlessly. 

 

“Ah, Draco. I’m glad to see you joining us for tea. Sugar?” The old Wizard asked him warmly.

 

Draco kept his chin pointed high as he sauntered in, determined to make his presence as cryptic as possible. “Yes. Two please. No milk for me.” 

 

He felt Harry’s body pass around him to take a seat beside Sirius, Snape was sitting quietly on the other side. Draco decided to sit opposite the Head Master at the other end of the table, comfortably out of reach of everyone. 

 

But to Draco’s annoyance, he felt Harry’s eyes still on him, intense and full of questions. He would have given the other boy a sharp, quelling glance but he was too busy gazing boredly at the old Alpha in front of him, which he hoped was doing its job and not giving the man any inkling in the slightest to his mental state. The less the Head Master knew about how he was feeling the better. Despite his kindness he always seemed like he couldn’t be trusted. 

 

The tea was stirred and magicked towards Draco, he held out his hands to clasp it softly before taking a sip. Sweet and hot. The sipping sound was deafening compared to the stiff silence. Why was it that every time he was in a room with anyone in this house it had to be the most awkward affair in Draco’s life? At least the Head Master hadn’t told Sirius though, because the man was acting quite put together. Albeit staring angrily ahead at Snape, but calm and collected none-the-less. Were he to know what Snape had found Draco probably wouldn’t be spending the night here, if the house was at risk of being found using the bond. In fact it’s why Draco was feeling so apprehensive about Dumbledore in the first place - it was the fact that Draco understood the perspective of keeping your home and loved ones safe, even if it was at the expense of some Omegan boy who you have bad blood with. It couldn’t make sense to Draco why they keep him around here. As far as Draco knew they had only agreed to take him and to keep him away from the Dark Lord, but how much they made good on that promise wasn’t bound with an oath. They didn’t have to keep him safe to the point it jeopardised their own safety? 

 

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly at the Head Master. It wasn’t making sense. 

 

Before the cup in Draco’s hands could touch the table as he was placing it down, Professor Snape was grunting painfully under his breath. The man was expertly suppressing his expression of discomfort when he rolled his black sleeve upwards, exposing the normally flesh red tattoo had activated and gone black. 

 

“Oh, you better leave now Severus,” Dumbledore said gravely. 

 

Harry was staring at it with hate in his eyes and Sirius was tensely looking away. 

 

“Wait!” Draco said after his teacher who was already swiftly moving to his feet and making way down the corridor. Draco gave chase to him before he could make it to the foyer to Disapparate. “Wait, Professor!” 

 

The man spun on his heels to consider him cooly. “Boy, has your Omegan nature ruined your mind? The Dark Lord calls.”

 

“I know,” Draco said desperately. “Have you seen my Mother? Is my family safe? Does _he_ know?”

 

Snape sighed with an eye roll but remained where he was. “The Dark Lord has his suspicions…But he knows it would be unwise to punish your parents under these circumstances. Your parents are also very convincing. I can’t guarantee their safety if you are to expose yourself, however.” His expression was hard, those black eyes flashed a little with warning.  

“What have they said?” Draco tried again, he could hear the pitch in his voice rise but he chose to ignore it.

“That you’re a traitor to the cause,” Snape said easily, it stung painfully. “And that you are no Malfoy.” The black smoke of a Death Eater was beginning to bellow from the hem of the professor’s robes, it rose like a beast and consumed the man’s tall figure until he disappeared in it. The crack of Disapparation erupted from it, and as suddenly as the smoke manifested it disappeared, leaving Draco yet again to stare off in a stupor at where the man once stood.  

A hand set itself on his shoulder, and before Draco could leap out of its hold Dumbledore spoke softly to him, almost a whisper. “I’m sorry for your situation, please give me a chance to come up with a means of solving it. I understand you want to go back to school, Draco.”

At his name Draco glanced up with watery eyes, but didn’t say anything in response. In all honesty it was because he couldn’t, his mouth felt like it was filled with cement. A traitor. No Malfoy. A dirty, blood-traitor. Oh God. He could only watch the old Alpha walk past him and with a friendly wave was consumed away into the fire that suddenly started behind him in the fireplace. Just as Snape had disappeared into an enormous cloud of darkness, the Head Master vanished into a monster of flames so bright it stung Draco’s eyes watching him go.

 

* * *

 

_ Malfoy Manor  _

 

The Malfoy Manor’s dining room was lit with several candles floating above its grand centre table. The flickering lights were charmed to suit the Dark Lord’s arrival, and it submerged the normally pleasant white and powder blue walls and decorations in poison green. The table was lain out plainly, only serving the purpose to hold their called upon meeting; the Dark Mark, black and smooth like cauterised burnt flesh, which marred nearly the entire length of Narcissa’s forearm was still dull with pain from being activated. She thanked the stars in her family’s name that Draco was spared from it. Just in time. 

Narcissa sat at her husband’s right hand, waiting along side him for the rest of the Death Eaters to make their way inside and take their own seats. His warm, comforting Alpha scent she was so familiar with was acidic in her throat now. The visceral tension he was feeling was causing it to taint, which in itself was a non-issue as most of the Death Eater’s weren’t quite as intimate with the subtle changes to his scent as she was. Most of the Death Eater’s themselves were Alphas, which meant very similar pheromones consuming the room, with the few Beta exceptions including the Dark Lord himself. 

The sound of Wizards and Witches Apparating in the foyer came suddenly, and soon enough the Crowley’s stalked in with a curt nod towards the Malfoy’s already in their seats. Yaxley followed, who made his way around the Malfoy’s to take his place beside Lucius. Narcissa’s sister, Bellatrix, strut in with almost a dance to her step only to crash gracelessly into a chair to Narcissa’s right.  The blonde woman couldn’t help but tighten her lips a little but still managed a polite smile. Severus was one of the last to enter, his already sallow skin looked almost sickly in the green candle light, he took his seat opposite her husband at the table.

 

It wasn’t long until nearly a dozen Death Eaters were seated. Everyone waited quietly, no one bothered to idly chat. In fact the dining room was so quiet Narcissa could hear the candles crack and pop on their handles. Everyone knew currently the situation was a little dire, they’d read the Daily Prophet’s report on Fenrir Greyback and news of Draco’s disappearance only took a day before it had spread into every Wizarding home loyal to the Dark Lord. 

As if timed on queue at the thought, the Dark Lord himself Apparated out of a plume of black smoke at the head of the table. His smooth, featureless white face emerged from the darkness and he smiled slightly – almost pleasantly – but it only served to create a cold vice grip around Narcissa’s throat in anticipation.

Nagini emerged from her hiding place beneath the dining table to slither comfortably across the Lord’s shoulders, he pet her face as he spoke.

 

“I would first like to welcome everyone this evening,” his voice was a dark whisper, the black slits that divided his scarlet eyes shifted over to the Malfoy’s briefly, Narcissa couldn’t help but squeeze her husband’s hand underneath the table. He squeezed it back but it couldn’t soothe her quickening heart beat. “Unfortunately, for the time being we have lost a valued follower to the cause. Our course of action to return Fenrir is in motion, but his sustained injuries have proven to be extortionate and it will not be soon when he will be ready to join us again.”

 

“My gracious Lord,” Bellatrix hissed after he had finished, patiently eager to speak, “we weren’t able to trace the wand-bearer who had committed it, but I know Fenrir was confident in pursuing Draco - it must be him, the Order must be close.” 

“Yes, I know we will find the traitor soon enough. He will be punished accordingly. Lucius, have you heard word yet from your son? An owl perhaps?”

“No, my Lord. There has been no contact.” Lucius drawled, expertly schooling the tremor in his voice. “He is no son of mine.”

“And you, Narcissa? He’s always been at Mother’s hip.”

“Were he to so much as cast his shadow in my direction, my Lord, I would curse the breath out of his lungs.” She felt the mild prod of the dark Wizard’s Legilimens, but it merely passed her thoughts like a fog in a field. The moment his presence was no longer felt, she let her stomach coil at the words that had left her mouth. 

 

 Finally, the Lord turned to Severus. “Have the Order been in contact with Draco yet, then, Severus?”

 

“No, my Lord, however I suspect Draco is on his way. I believe he is due to be in touch any day.”

 

“Any inkling as to where he may be hiding in the mean time?”

 

“No. None. Perhaps his class mates have hidden him?”

 

“Perhaps…”

 

At their answers, the Dark Lord eased back into his grand chair. His extended hand drummed its claws over the mahogany table before him, contemplating his next words. Nagini was eyeing everyone, what she could possibly be thinking forever a mystery. 

“Things are to go as planned. Severus will repair the vanishing cabinet within the school.” There was a wave of positive murmurs and glances, it was the preferred option over Draco who was originally assigned the revered task - who was going to be told the week before school was due to start. The black haired Alpha merely watched on sternly. “Once it is ready Fenrir will be able-bodied enough to re-join us in dismantling the wards. Bellatrix will kill Dumbledore and you all will locate Draco if he is confirmed to attend this school year – he is to be brought to me alive – otherwise we will find Potter and kill him on site –”

 

 A blood curdling scream emerged from below the floor boards. The Dark Lord’s lips, thin and white like a scar, stretched wide into a disapproving line at being interrupted. Yaxley stoodand left without a word to tend to the disturbance below, perhaps a prisoner’s silencing charm had warn off. After a few moments the suffering wail ceased and he continued:

 

“Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter will die when the cabinet is ready. Hogwarts will succumb to our control and divine reign. All Blood-Traitors will be dealt what they are owed.”

 

“Yes, my Dark Lord!” Cried the room, Narcissa felt her lips move with their unison. The excitement of a hunt thrilled the Alphas and the room’s storm of apposing Alpha pheromones was like an unbearable orchestra of the world’s loudest, most irritating instruments. 

 

 

* * *

_ That Evening _

 

The night came as it did, and with it it made the usually eerily quiet household almost ghostly.

Draco moved through the halls, he was struggling to sleep, and this afternoon’s events with Harry repeated obsessively in his head. The touch… Stroking Potter’s face tenderly. Maybe he needed to do a little more, some small part of his brain cried a little too passionately. Instead of lying in bed listening to it go on and on he decided to do just that - do a little more.

What drew him in to the idea was that if he were to somehow trigger a new bond of some kind, it meant he was not only free to return to school, but that  he would have an Alpha available for his protection when,  not if, Hogwarts was attacked. He knew the Dark Lord and his death eaters were confident, but also terrifyingly patient. Another positive was that it being Harry Potter, his permanency wasn’t guaranteed - Draco’s stomach dropped a fraction guiltily at admitting it, but it was true, he was a target to many, he was going to die soon and if not this school year then the next - and so it meant Draco had freedom lined up for himself. He would eventually figure out a way to hide his Omegan identity, and once he did he would never need to rely on an Alpha in his life again.

Draco continued to walk, Harry’s room was the furthest on the left while Draco’s was furthest on the right. It made the walk all the more daunting and several times he found himself stopping and turning around ready to just retreat back to his room. His heart was hammering in his chest, it almost hurt how powerfully it shuddered. Maybe he really should turn back?

 

But a distracting sound ahead of Draco was enough to keep him from turning back for the umpteenth time. The sound rang out again and again, almost like someone beating a mattress. It was coming from Sirius’s room, the door remained slightly ajar near the centre left of the hall. The creamy bedroom light cut through onto the black wooden floorboards, it looked almost physical against the darkness.He continued on until he was about to pass, casting an eye long enough to satisfy his curiosity, but he couldn’t help but stop entirely.

 

Sirius was standing in the middle of his room, shirtless and gleaming with sweat, his fists bound with strips of white cloth. There was some sort of sack enchanted to float head-height, cylinder shaped and made out of black leather. 

 

His unease fluttered away, Draco now only felt confused. 

 

“What are you doing?” He asked slowly. 

 

“Boxing.” The man replied, if he was surprised to see Draco he did a good job of not showing it. His hand was out stretched to steady the bag that was swinging back and forth slightly.

 

“What is that?”

 

“It’s a Muggle sport.” Sirius took stance and suddenly launched a combo of powerful and fast jabs at the sack. The sound of it being struck rang louder in the room and it waved back and forth after Sirius lowered his fists to look back at Draco, panting slightly.

 

“For what purpose?” Draco eyes were struggling to avoid dragging downward to admire the heaving abdominal muscles. "What idiot doesn't fight with a wand?"

 

Sirius wiped a sweat soaked strand of hair from his eye with the back of his hand in thought.

 

“To be strong, I suppose? To fight properly.” The tone shifts slightly and there’s a shadow that casts over the older Alpha’s eyes, like a stormy memory and Draco felt the urge to move on return. But before Draco can excuse himself Sirius squints his eyes at him and presses, “What are you doing up?”

 

 

Draco felt his throat flutter a little at the deep tone in Sirius' voice but he made no show of being fazed, he merely lifted his nose and rose his eyebrows just a fraction, his all-star impassive face, which used to work even on Severus whenever Draco was caught out off curfew.“I wanted to collect a couple more books for my room, since I can’t sleep.”

 

Sirius eyed him a second longer, but clearly wasn’t bothered enough to push any further. He must have amped up the lock charms for the house because he only shrugged and turned back to his floating sack to unleash another round of punches. 

 

Draco ducked out of site as soon as he turned away.

 

It’s not like he didn’t tempt the idea of perhaps undoing the bond using Sirius, but the man was a little too wild, unpredictable, and intimidating sometimes for Draco. The heat in Draco’s face was still receding as he continued down the hallway, he’s never felt so wound up just at the site of a half-naked body before in his life, not even in the Quidditch changing rooms. Besides, with Potter available at school, if something were to happen it was more convenient to fix. Sirius being a Black wasn’t really an issue, and in fact would have probably been a preferred arrangement if you told the portraits of his relatives. The ancient blood remaining pure. But Draco couldn’t help but secretly find it a little weird…

 

Potter’s bedroom door came into view and Draco had to take a long breath to muster the courage before knocking on it loud enough only for the boy to hear inside.

 

He waited a moment.

 

It was quiet, save for the faint sound of Sirius boxing in his room down the hall. Draco tried to knock again, a little louder this time but still only enough to really be heard inside the room. No sound of movement, no voice. Draco had to physically roll his eyes in disbelief, how can heavily can someone sleep?

 

“Merlin, Potter, open the door.” Draco hissed. He knocked again to emphasise his annoyance.

 

Nothing. Was the bastard going to ignore him? Was he serious? He was the one who couldn’t take his eyes off Draco in the dining room. He was the one who was acting like his brain was replaced with his cock! Was he going to pretend like he wasn’t interested now? Was he actually serious?

 

He knocked again, the heat in his face returned full force from anger.

 

“Potter!” He whispered furiously, “you can’t ignore me!”

 

Draco pushed against the handle, expecting it to be magically locked anyway, but it gave way and Draco found himself opening Potter’s bedroom door. His eyes immediately scanned to find any sign of Potter most likely sound asleep in his bed, but instead found no one. His bed was a mess and it was just as obnoxiously Gryffindor and Quidditch themed as before, only now dark and minus the actual offender in question.

 

He must have gone possibly to squat at the Weasley Shack for the night. Potter obviously didn’t have to announce to Draco where he went or when he came back to the house, and neither did Sirius when Potter had most likely told him… But Draco couldn’t help but feel a little irritated that he bothered to make it all this way only to not find him here. It also made him feel a little upset, as if he didn’t deserve to know. What if he needed Potter for something? Like right now? Stupid _and_ selfish. 

 

Now that he realised the room was empty, Draco hesitated at the thought of taking the map, Potter obviously would clue in on who - out of the very select few that knew about it and where it was hidden - would have taken it. The map was going to be very useful, and cutting ties with its access prematurely without a plan wasn’t very Slytherin of him.

 

Instead, Draco slowly stepped inside and took a seat on the bed. In all honesty he really didn’t know why he came here. It wasn’t like he was going to fuck Potter - his stomach dropped at the thought and blinked away the memories of the Muggle park - and it wasn’t like he really had any clue as how to undo or trick or even lessen the bond. What if sexual intercourse really was the only way? But Fenrir had only entered him once for a few seconds, it’s not like that was enough, surely? There had to be a boundary. Was it because he was close to his heat? Because Draco didn’t have enough time to wait for the next tri-month for his heat again to be certain, the school year was about to start in less than a month and a half. And what was the explanation when Draco was pouring copious amounts of slick on the night in the bathroom in front of Potter? Was it because it was still technically before the heat? Was going through the heat necessary to initiate a bond? But he was only partially bonded, he reminded himself. There were so many questions and Draco was increasingly finding himself more and more frustrated by them by the minute.

 

And now the Alpha scent wafting off the bed was getting to him a little bit, winding him up. Maybe a little more than a little bit because in the next moment he was lying back and resting his head on the cold pillow. He stared up at the dark red canopy above him. 

 

Draco could feel blood rushing towards his sex, and the foreign, subtle beat of it was a little mind numbing. One of his hands slowly dragged its way to the opening of his night robe, the very tips of his fingers peaking underneath the fabric.

 

_Polished wood, fresh ink._

 

He wondered what he might smell like to the Alphas. Maybe sweet? It must be nice if even Harry Potter himself can’t help be slack jawed and aroused in his presence. He remembered the potions laboratory again, this time about how Potter’s face went red at the proximity of their bodies, how his eyes went a little wider and his mouth parted. The tell-tale smell of arousal coming off of him in waves.

 

Draco felt his own lips part slightly at the memory, his hand disappeared entirely and was teasing the hem of his underpants. He wasn’t wet, but he shivered regardless when his fingers brushed over the soft skin, passing the folds ever so slightly to glide against smooth, warm heat. Just the slightest touch was sending electricity to pulse through his veins, and he could even feel the familiar tickle and spark of magic filling the air around him.

 

The cold pillow beneath him grew warmer and he nestled deeper into it, getting more comfortable.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and imagined someone above him, dark in shadow and wide enough to envelope his whole body… Instead of allowing the fantasy to scare him, he forced the face to be casted in light. What he pictured was Potter’s angular jaw and long nose, the funny spectacles and wild jet black hair.

 

Draco let a finger slip inside him. His imagination supplied a cock in its place, long and thick and hot. He gasped. Another finger. They split and curved and manoeuvred in and out of Draco frantically. Another hand came down to begin rubbing and jerking his own cock, which had hardened and was now dribbling pre-cum down its length and onto his belly. He was rocking his body desperately onto his hand.

 

_Polished wood, fresh ink._

 

A shudder erupted from Draco, and he cried out softly as his sex squeezed his fingers and his cock spent ribbons of cum over his chest.

 

As the post-orgasm spasms lessened, Draco realised he felt like he was on a cloud. Was this bed always so soft? He shut his eyes briefly to bask in this glow and aura, Potter’s scent reminded him of school, familiar and safe. 

 

He allowed his eyes to remain closed a little longer…

 

…And peacefully fell asleep. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally!!!! i had this chapter sitting at around 3k words for ages and for most of that time i had no idea how to wrap it up! fairly happy with the chapter. and as an apology for taking so long i threw in a few doodles here and there! :-) thanks everyone for still giving kudos and leaving comments! it kept bringing me back to this story and reminding me to continue it!
> 
> and don't mind me just casually adding boxing into this.. it's more just for kink. guys boxing is just....*chefs kiss* muah. ;-))
> 
> edit: if you've come back to read this again i've changed the drawing of sirius! i didnt really like it and it wasnt my best so i redid it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!!!!! happy (early) christmas!! so sorry for the super long wait but in my defence this chapter is 10k long hahaa! next chapter please be prepared to see the story move on to good old hoggie-wartsie! hope everyone is gonna have an amazing christmas :) (a christmas chapter wont happy until another 2-3 updates lmao so that will be a little delayed!) i hope you guys appreciate how difficult it is to come up with a comprehensive biological universe for a/b/o while still making things interesting and different. so far i hope im making sense but if not i promise my goal is to keep filling in the cracks as i go along !

 

 

 

It was so early when Harry emerged from the flames of the Floo that the soft, summer morning light had only begun to creep its way into the house. His back was sore from the bed Molly had transfigured for him at the burrow, his sleep suffered throughout the night at his constant attempts to avoid sinking into the soft, formless mattress. However, the reality was no matter where or how he slept he probably would not have had even a wink. Harry had needed somewhere to settle down after being riled inexplicably. Everything in this house was beginning to remind him of Malfoy. Malfoy’s scent. Malfoy interacting with things, the portraits going on and on about Malfoy. The blond pulling whatever that was in the lounge had successfully left him tense and confused. This was - Harry strongly reminded himself - the same prissy, intolerant, little bastard from school. Of course he was never ugly, in fact how much prettier he was than any other student made him being insufferable all the more worse.

 

As he trekked up the dark carpeted staircase, the sleeplessness making his limbs hard and awkward as he moved, he somehow thought back to the first time he had ever met Draco Malfoy. They were two boys standing on stools - measuring tape twirling around them, snapping scissors racing up the the length of their new school robes, pins wiggling and tucking themselves into their sleeves… 

 

_“Play Quidditch at all?” The blond boy had said, his head was raised as if he was told all his life that he was untouchable. He was all smooth and unblemished skin with perfectly soft and tidied hair, compared to Harry who couldn’t even remember the last time he was allowed to use shampoo._

 

_“No,” Harry said, wondering what the hell Quidditch could be._

 

_“I do - Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you’ll be in yet?”_

 

_“No,” said Harry again, feeling stupider by the minute._

 

_“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”_ There was a smile on his face that Harry didn’t find charming back then, but now - looking back - he felt the smallest tug in response, six years later. 

 

He hardly noticed that he was already making his way down the hall towards his room, but he stopped to turn back for a moment to look over at Malfoy’s bedroom door. What had Snape told Draco to make him act that way? There was an expression of defeat in his silver eyes that unsettled Harry, but the graze of his fingers and knuckles from his smooth, delicate hand momentarily evaporated any and all doubt. He could only just stare, horrified at how fast he felt his own dick swell and strain painfully in his jeans. 

 

He was also ashamed of the thoughts that filled his head when he interrupted Draco and Sirius on the roof. He felt a jealousy fester in his belly, it reared its ugly head at the challenge of an _other_. In fact even before, the almost drunken-effect of Malfoy’s pre-heat pheromones in the library that first night had him just about ready to deck Ron for coming close for a sniff. Being around someone that gave you thoughts like that was terrifying, like they’ve possessed you.

 

Harry turned away, maybe being in his room to sleep for a few hours would help clear his head a little; his eyes were already stinging from exertion. As he reached his door he paused for a second, he smelt something funny. He looked back down the hallway to see if Malfoy had come out of his room but saw nothing. He pushed the door in, and was immediately overwhelmed by the dizzying smell of an Omega. Sweet, sweat, calm. He could instantly make out Draco curled in his sheets, his snow white hair tangled and sticking up in all sorts of directions. At the light pooling in from behind Harry, Malfoy instinctually turned away, letting out a soft groan in protest. Harry let the door shut after him and quietly approached the bed. Kneeling down on the left hand side to observe. This closely Harry could see his long, dark lashes fanned upwards; his face was lightly dusted with pink; his rounded lips were slightly parted to expose a sliver of his straight white teeth; he looked practically unrecognisable in the most bizarre sort of way in this state. Just plain, open. No aloof expression or insufferable smirk. 

 

This close the scent radiating off his skin was forcing his mind to short-circuit – it was mouth-watering honey… and… 

 

Something. 

 

Harry leant in closer – he let his palms sink further into the bed – taking in a deep, more deliberate breath. He could see his breathing ruffled the feather light strands of hair that collapsed over Malfoy’s forehead. 

 

Malfoy let out another displeased soft moan in his sleep and nuzzled the side of his face into the pillow, but Harry didn’t pull back quite just yet. Something about him was different but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He smelt good as always, better even, when he realised the raw, sickly smell that lingered underneath was gone. It was replaced by  something else. He liked it. 

 

“Hey…” Harry started, softly. Malfoy’s nose twitched but otherwise he didn’t stir. His shoulder was warm under Harry’s hand as he shook it gently. 

 

“Hey.” A little louder this time. 

 

No reaction besides a slight snore. 

 

“Malfoy,” Harry deadpanned now. “What are you doing in my bed?” 

 

Nothing. How heavy of a sleeper was he really?

 

“Hey,” Harry shook him firmly, to the point Malfoy’s head lulled back and forth on the pillow. “Wake up, mate.” 

 

“Nnh,” Malfoy managed out, his eyelids twitched and his dark blond brows knit at the centre. 

 

“Merlin, get up you lazy bastard.” Harry’s other hand came up to tap him on the cheek. “You’re in my bed.” 

 

Suddenly, Malfoy’s eyes flew open, alarmed. The silver colour still glowed even in the unlit room. Malfoy’s hand instantly shot out and connected to Harry’s nose, he grunted at the pain that erupted from the centre of his face and out of reflex he pulled back hard, snapping his neck painfully. 

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry hissed slowly, head still tilted back to face the ceiling. Malfoy was sitting up now, his eyes owlish and his hands raised. 

 

“What are you doing here?” He demanded a little breathlessly. The skin at the bridge of Harry’s nose was tender as he rubbed it with his hand, if he were to leave it without magic it would without a doubt have developed a nasty looking bruise. Anger flared up in his throat. 

 

“What – What the fuck is _wrong_ with you? You’re in my bed!” 

 

Malfoy’s bright eyes looked away to scan the room a little more carefully, when they finally returned to stare back at Harry they looked horrified. 

 

“…I – “ Malfoy started – 

 

 

“ – What did you do in here?” Harryinterrupted, mind transfixed again on the scent now wafting even stronger off the other boy, the painful throbbing in his nose momentarily forgotten. “Did you come to find me? Did something happen?” 

 

“No,” Malfoy said suddenly. “No I was just tired. I wasn’t thinking.” 

 

“Something happened…” Harry said, mostly to himself. His eyes raked for anything out of place; Malfoy’s sleeping robes were wrinkled and a little crooked at the collar, his hair was tangled on one side where he had slept, his expression was wild and alert. He let himself sit on the edge of the bed, feeling his weight causing the mattress to sink, he noted the way Malfoy’s legs shifted nearby under the covers. “Draco did you need to talk with me?” He let his eyes soften, not liking the way fear tainted the sweat treacle perfume. He abandoned the pained anger and focused intently on the way Draco’s expressive face moved.

 

Draco let his white teeth sink into the pink flesh of his lower lip, working the round swell until it darkened a fraction. His eyebrows were working over time trying to convey his thoughts and emotions, crooking and knitting together as he tried to form his words (or his escape). “I wanted to talk to you… About last night.” 

 

Harry only nodded encouragingly, letting Draco lead the conversation. “And I…” Draco paused and shifted for a second, he looked confused. He shifted again, moving his hips under the covers as looked down at where his legs were. He lifted his eyes back up to Harry’s, mouth open dumbly. He slowly seemed so utterly humiliated by something that he could barely manage out a stutter. 

 

“What?” Harry said, inching in closer. 

 

He wasn’t prepared for the whirl of limbs and sheets as Malfoy flung himself out of the bed, crying out a ‘I need to leave’ and pelting himself against the door, yanking it open and fleeing the room in what Harry could only imagine was in the course of a couple of seconds. Harry watched after him, putting his hand down on the spot where Malfoy had been to help himself off the bed to follow after him but he stopped when he noticed the entire mattress was sopping wet. He looked at his hand, it was a clear, shiny substance that was a little gooey between his fingers. Was this his heat slick? Weren’t they done with that already? 

 

The smell off of it was causing a delirium in Harry’s mind, sending his thoughts on a wild frenzy to conjure images of wet thighs splitting open admitting entrance, toes curling and clawing at sheets in ecstasy… He hurriedly wiped the palm of his hand on the edge of the mattress and stood away. He needed to speak with Sirius - someone - because something wasn’t right. Even with Draco gone he could still feel a phantom presence left behind, physically he felt a magnetic pull towards the door, easily he knew it would lead him down the hallway and into the other boy’s bedroom. Was this a bond? If it was how was this even possible? He weirdly felt relieved by it – wasn’t this what he’d wanted to have happen? To have tabs on the other to keep him out of trouble? There was a strong sense that rumbled in him, telling him to go check on his Omega.

 

His Omega.

 

Harry couldn’t help but let a growl slip through his teeth at the thought, secretly he felt frustrated that this was even possible without being present for it.

 

He decided to get up and leave the room, avoiding the slick to keep his mind clear. He looked up down the hall - Malfoy’s door was shut, but not locked. If he wanted to he could have kept walking until he met the door, making his way inside to demand more answers from the Slytherin. But he didn’t want Draco to be afraid of him, if this was a problem he would need him to actually listen. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry made his way down to the kitchen where Sirius was attempting to eat an early breakfast by himself at the table - attempting because instead of actually paying any attention to his toast and marmalade he was consumed with lecturing Kreacher over the proper way to clean dust. Sirius was slouched comfortably in his chair, an arm slung behind the back as he gestured towards the grizzly elf holding a cloth in his long, wrinkled hands. “Merlin’s beard, why can’t you just magic it all away? You make it worse when you just rub it all around!” 

 

The elf ignored him and only sarcastically bowed at Harry’s entrance. “Master Potter, Kreacher will prepare your breakfast…” 

 

Harry thanked him and took his seat next to a now grumbling Sirius, he couldn’t really tell what he was saying because even all the way downstairs Harry could still feel the inviting tug of Draco’s presence upstairs. Most likely he was pacing or hiding in his bed, moping again. Despite everything he didn’t like to see the other boy act so depressed, at least not for so long. If only he knew an Omega to ask what was happening, wishing someone could explain things and solve a lot of the issues Draco’s been shouldering alone. 

 

“How was it at the Burrow?” Sirius asked, cutting through his thoughts. His God Father took a bite of his toast and rinsed it down with a mug of coffee. 

 

Harry looked down to see his favourite - a full English - steaming on a large white plate materialise in front of him. “S’alright,” he shrugged, nudging his food around with a fork. “Last night was just a bit weird.”  


  
“Hear, hear,” Sirius raised his mug, tipping it towards Harry’s direction, before taking a long sip. 

 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the sound of cutlery scrapping on ceramic plates and cups being picked up and set down occasionally interrupting the quiet. After a while Harry decided he’d spent enough time chewing over what he was going to say. He took a long, deliberate breath through his nose. “Something’s off about Malfoy.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Sirius said distractedly, scratching at the dark scruff on his chin, not moving his eyes off the folded page of the Prophet tucked besides his plate. 

 

“He…” Harry watched the way the man’s tanned, calloused fingers fanned over the front of the newspaper, curving around the ear of a page and gingerly lifting it off the table to carefully read a sentence… The more Harry stared the clearer the images of Sirius and Draco on the roof flooded his mind again like it had this morning, that same hand firmly clasping at Draco’s shoulder and holding his smaller body close. _Other_. “He’s just an odd bloke.” 

 

“Too right.” He looked up at Harry curiously for a moment, but said nothing more before he flipped the newspaper around. 

 

Maybe Hermione might be better suited to help. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Merlin wept for all the reasons you’d ask us to come over.”

 

“He asked _me_ to come over, Ron,” Hermione interjected, stepping through the fire place with a tower’s worth of books stacked haphazardly high in her arms. “And it could be really important.” 

 

Harry mentally thanked Hermione for her reasoning, happy to nod in agreement. He relieved her of her books as she busied herself with her enchanted purse, pulling out a notebook, stationary, and a handful of colourful lollies. Ron picked at one and popped it into his mouth before throwing himself into a cushioned chair. “Well where is the little bugger, then? Sulking in his room? Writing love letters to his Death Eater boyfriends?”

 

Harry felt suddenly uncomfortable, and a little annoyed at Ron. “I told Kreacher to fetch him. He’ll be here soon enough.”

 

“What exactly happened that made you call us here, Harry?” Hermione asked, finally done arranging her books and notes on the nearest table. 

 

Harry shrugged and scratched at his neck. “I’unno. He was acting weird - ” 

 

“ - that’s normal - ” Interjected Ron, grinning.

 

“ - he was in my room this morning…” He rubbed his jaw, working it to form the words properly. Ron choked a little on the sweet he was still rolling around in his mouth. “He was sleeping in my bed when I found him and… I don’t know. It was weird. He seemed different.” 

 

“In what way?” Hermione asked.

 

“I - um - ” The hand on Harry’s face drew back behind his neck, encircling it while he looked awkwardly at a blank spot above Hermione’s head. A blush was rapidly creeping up and warming his cheeks. 

 

“Was he acting different?” She pressed.

 

Harry’s mouth was going dry, he part his lips slightly to lick his lips. _Be honest, tell her._

 

“Not exactly…” 

 

“Then what, Harry? Did he say something?” 

 

His heart was hammering in his chest painfully. His glasses were fogging slightly from the heat coming off his skin.

 

“No, he didn’t…”

 

“Did he… Smell different?” Hermione asked innocently, clearly not quite noticing the way Harry squirmed in front of her - or maybe she did and knew exactly what she was doing. He honestly couldn’t tell with her sometimes. 

 

“If you want to know that, Granger, my dirty laundry is available for you to sniff as you please.”

 

The scent of honey poured into the room from behind. When Harry turned around, Draco wasn’t disheveled like he had been in his bed. He was in wrinkle-free dark blue robes with an embroided neck line that came up just below his jaw. His hair was brushed, but still curled naturally behind the ears and at the nape of his neck. He looked good as always, haughty as ever, with his pointed nose stuck up a degree as he sauntered in. Harry felt himself stand a little straighter. 

 

“Oh, Malfoy, hi,” Hermione said, she offered a small polite smile. “How are you?”

 

“Fine as I can be, considering,” Draco said lightly, his eyelashes were lowered a little. He looked back at Harry who could sense a deeper meaning in his eyes. 

 

Ron frowned deeply and sank further in his chair, but he said nothing. Hermione must have had something to do with that. 

 

“Why am I here? What do you want?” Draco sneered, keeping his distance as much as possible while still being present in the room. 

 

“Well, Harry felt like maybe I could help. He said something happened this morning — ” 

 

“Nothing happened you —” Draco seemed to catch his own tongue, he looked as if he was genuinely toying with the idea of insulting Hermione with abandon but stopped just short at the reminder that he in fact needed his throat to live. “I wasn’t thinking.”

 

Ron stirred in his chair, his face complex as his mind ran a mile a second coming up with different ways to probably strangle said Draco’s throat. To avoid giving Draco or Ron the chance to say any more, Harry stood forward and guided Draco to the nearest seat. Everyone was doing a very good job at trying not to look like they were uncomfortable but also at the same time very clearly were. 

 

“We just want to know if things are going to be okay before we all go back to school, Draco,” Hermione continued. “If something really is wrong wouldn’t you want to know and be better prepared to handle it?”  


  
“Not a little too confident of yourself, Granger?”

 

Harry internally screamed. Why did Draco insist on acting unpleasant every chance he got when in the presence of Hermione or Ron? Hermione let her round nose scrunch a little exasperatedly but thankfully she didn’t say anything, Harry relaxed his jaw a fraction only now after noticing it was tightly clenched. Presumably unaware of the mental anguish he was causing Harry, Malfoy was just sitting there with a leg crossed over the other, his elbow perched on his knee propping his chin, his soft mouth twisted a little in a small frown - Harry blinked and internally shook his head, he felt himself flush with embarrassment again. Why was this happening to him? Why does it keep happening? Harry yearned for the normalcy of seeing nothing but rotten little Malfoy - he reminded himself of how stuck up and pretentious the boy was, how unfriendly and mean his sharp silver eyes were, his nasty, intolerant attitude and selfishness… 

 

“C’mon Malfoy, give her a chance to see what’s wrong.”

 

“Nothing’s wrong!” Draco repeated, his voice a little tight and quick as a whip. Those silver eyes were darting around the room the same way Harry had come to realise was when Draco was teetering on fight or flight. Harry couldn’t help but extend his hand out and clasp Draco’s shoulder, who jumped slightly under his touch. He ignored that and continued, “You want to go back to school, don’t you? You have to admit things got weird this morning, and what if it got worse? What else about being an Omega can put you in danger or - I dunno - imagine something happening and you wind up getting captured by Voldemort - ”

 

“Stop - don’t say his name!” Draco hissed, peeling Harry’s hand off him as he continued to speak. “I can’t believe this this… Merlin, Potter, it’s not as serious as you think.” He was beginning to blush. He looked down now, anger clearly burning beneath the surface. 

 

“Then why can I just tell something’s off?” Harry insisted. _Why was my bed sopping wet in your slick, Draco. Why can I feel you everywhere I go. Why do you smell better than you’ve ever smelt in your whole damn life?_

 

“I don’t know! That’s not something I particularly care to know about!” Draco was squirming in his seat now. A bead of sweat swelled on his temple, not quite ready to fall. Harry wanted to lick it, imagining the salty-sweet flavour on the tip of his tongue. 

 

Instead of pushing it any more, predictably it was going nowhere, Harry just turned to look at Hermione beseechingly. She reached out and plucked up the thicket book out of her collection, which was sitting on the top of the three foot pillar of books of various shapes, sizes, and titles stamped onto their spines. The title read: **_Confusing Conundrums for the Mighty Growing Wizard_**. Harry observed Draco’s reaction to it, his perfectly shaped brow quirked a little and his mouth was a firm line. “This is the best book I’ve come across so far that goes over a fair bit about our genders, it’s a really good read if any of you were ever bothered. I thought it would be a good idea to quickly go through it since not much is really known about… Well… Any of this.” 

 

As Hermione went through the book, she occasionally reported a line of intrigue or importance. She summarised their genders significance to the Wizarding World’s modern existence, how Omega’s natures were less documented the further along history they go since their importance really only mattered during the trying times of the Wizarding purge. She went over an Omega’s purpose again (Harry noticed Draco sizzle on the spot the further into the paragraph she went, it was no secret how his heats and bodily functions operated but understandably it would be mortifying having it be so clinically described out loud by arguably who Draco considered his most hated peers. Harry could only imagine it be overwhelmingly unpleasant.) 

 

She then stopped and blushed a little at a section she no doubt already had read through a million times. 

 

“Hermione - ?” 

 

Hermione cleared her throat and continued. She went on to describe how Omega’s often would be found to have several sexual partners, using a polyandrous binding to their partners magic, in order to effectively breed new offspring and to reinforce the magical abilities of an Alpha for protection and to safeguard an Omega’s prestige amongst a family. 

 

“Sounds about right,” Ron jeered at that. 

 

Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously, the honeyed scent Harry had accustomed himself to shifted and went a little sour in the back of his throat. Harry tensed. 

 

“Doesn’t it just?” Draco said slowly, “sounds an awful lot like the Weasley’s. Breed like two rabbits in a hole then infest every sensible and respected Wizarding family in the damned country - "

 

Ron sat up fiercely and pulled out his wand. Harry, who hadn’t sat down, stepped forward and put up a warning hand in front of his friend’s chest. “C’mon, Ron. Not worth it.” Harry ignored the dark, slow growing presence of something… possessive… in his mind. “He wants to start a fight.”

 

“I hope what ever’s wrong with you means you can’t go back to school, you can rot by yourself for all I fucking care.” Ron snarled over Harry’s shoulder directly towards Draco, it ended in a deep rumble Ron was rarely ever capable of. Draco leant a little back but his expression remained the same, his eyes gleamed a little brighter. 

 

“What exactly did Professor Snape tell you, Draco? If you don’t mind me asking?” Hermione interrupted, her voice a little snappy. Ron disappeared from behind Harry and returned to his place in the chair in an instant, glaring at somewhere in the distance. “Harry told us he saw you last night. You don’t have to give any details, if something’s the matter I’m sure there’s a solution for you to be able to continue your classes in Hogwarts… I mean you wouldn’t have come here and sat in a room with me listening to my Mud-blood nonsense if you at least didn’t have a little hope?” Hermione’s brown eyes were unmoving as she watched Draco’s, her words were harsh but soft spoken and its silence the room. Draco only watched her back, silent as well. 

 

A few moments went by and Hermione nodded to herself, beginning to close the book, but stopped when Draco sighed an exhale through his nose.

 

“The Professor mentioned partial-bonding, and how he’s not exactly sure how much it would affect me or…others.” Harry frowned, understanding the insinuation. He hadn’t brought up that night in the park with Ron or Hermione, he wasn’t exactly sure if it would be right to do so. He was also sure the two could’ve figured it out from the Prophet article about it. They hadn’t mentioned reading it to him, so he assumed they might be understand his situation in it all. “I think something might have happened when I was by myself in Potter’s room…I’d gone there to talk but… I don’t know. I just sat there for a bit and kind of lost track of time.” 

 

“You just sat there?” Hermione raised. 

 

Draco’s cheekbones glowed pink and he was looking up for a second before shooting a quick, fleeting glance to Harry. His attention was now longingly to the doorway. “It just smelt nice I suppose. Wasn’t really thinking and I just…” He gestured his hand a little in the air to suggest something he couldn’t say without bursting into flames from shame. Ron made an appalled sound but said nothing else. “…And then I just fell asleep.”

 

Harry let his mind wiz and toil for a bit, Draco touched himself. He lost himself in Harry’s bed, because of Harry. Harry’s scent. Drawing Draco into his sheets despite not even being there - 

 

“I wonder if just generating - erm - strong feelings like that - can create a partial-bond?” Hermione kept going, flipping through and scanning the book’s yellow-stained pages. “I was hoping to hear back from Luna to compare some theories. I wrote to her a few days ago, she’s an Omega. Did you know? I thought she might be a little more open about personal goings-on with it but she hasn’t written back yet.” 

 

“ _You told Lovegood?_ ” Draco sputtered, he looked as if he was struggling to choose between breathing and containing his rage and pure shock. 

 

“Oh, no, no! I wouldn’t!” Hermione insisted sincerely. “I said I was only trying to learn more about this whole thing in general. I said I wanted to understand more about the history and understand Ron and his family better. Which is still true,” she said, turning in her chair to look at Ron with warm eyes before turning back to Draco once more. “And not only did I write to her because she and her Father are Omegan, but because I remember her telling me they tend to write up a lot of romantic fortune-tellings using someone’s birthday and gender for the Quibbler. They’re kind of a little fanatic I think about personality traits and gender… So she was perfect!” She clapped her hands together triumphantly, but then faltered. “Hopefully she writes back soon. I’d like to know what she has to say.” 

 

“You’d like to know…What Looney Lovegood has to say.” Draco flatly mused. “Hoping she comes up with nice little love fortunes for all of us, are you?” 

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

 

“This is actually a little difficult to understand, you know. Considering how conservative a lot of Wizards are. So if someone has literally anything helpful to say I wouldn’t exactly stick my nose up at it.” 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Late Evening 

 

 

On the grassy outskirts of a small village in Devon, the Burrow sat quietly in the night as everyone slept soundly. The only noise would come from the hollow whistle of wind rushing swiftly around the garden, trailing along the length of the house and up its many jutting rooms and chimneys - and from the occasional hushed giggles in the lounge room. 

 

Hermione and Ron sat in a cosy makeshift nest of blankets and cushions on the sofa, their limbs tangled and a packet of chocolate biscuits between them. The room was dark, its only light source coming from the small but warm fire in the fire place. Hermione was using the orange glow to read some notes she’d made after this mornings visit to Grimmauled Place. 

 

“Don’t you find it barmy how much Harry cares about this?” Ron said as he chewed, licking the biscuit crumbs on his fingers. He was reading **Quidditch Through the Ages** in his lap. “I reckon he’s been spending so much time there with Malfoy stinking up the house that it’s getting to his head.” He looked up to tap at his temple. 

 

Hermione whispered a sigh, scribbling something out on notes with the quill in her hand. “Harry and I don’t think it’s right to not let Draco back to school because of something that isn’t even his fault. He’s done and said some nasty things but being an Omega shouldn’t be a punishment. Thinking like that harms more people than you think.” She spoke softly, it was late into the night now and their voices against the silence was deafening compared to the bustle of nearly a dozen people. 

 

“I just hope Harry knows what he’s doing. I don’t want him to do anything just cos’ he’s not thinking straight, y’know?” Ron grumbled a little, snuggling deeper into their shared blanket. “You know what he’s like.”

 

“I do,” she smiled, under the blanket she squeezed his hand. 

 

Suddenly the fire place crackled lively, it tripled in size as it almost flared white like a star before morning into a rich, vivid green. Ron and Hermione stumbled to their feet, hands immediately drawing and pulling their wands out, an attack spell ready on their tongue and warming up the tips of their wands. 

 

Out of the now calmed frenzy of flames came Luna Lovegood, who stumbled a little over her own feet. She was decorated in all sorts of odd gadgets and random household items, and in her arms she had an overflow of books, and several publishings of the Quibbler. 

 

 

“ _Luna_?” Hermione and Ron said together in disbelief, slowly disarming and hiding their wands in their pyjamas. 

 

“Hello!” She said dreamily, smiling and tucking an odd, curly quill behind her ear. “Sorry for the delay, it was harder than I thought finding everything I needed.”

 

“Everything you… Luna what is this? Why are you here? Why didn’t you just write - ” Hermione started, but stopped when Luna dropped her items into a heap on the floor and held up what looked like a compass which she was wearing on a string around her neck. Luna pointed it towards the two and murmured her thoughts to herself as she observed the pointer spin wildly. 

 

“This compass is supposed to show you how strong a magical connection is,” Luna answered, as if reading their minds - or making sense of their questioning faces. She hummed, seemingly pleased with the nonsensical results, and pulled her curly quill from her ear, beginning to jot down some notes in her little roughed notebook she pulled out of her skirts pocket. 

 

“Look, Luna, we really appreciate you making all this effort to - ” Hermione tried again -

 

“A Beta-Alpha bond is such a wonderful thing, I’m happy to have found out how curious you were about it all - people usually try not to talk about it - isn’t that boring. How much have you found out about bonding so far, can I give you my latest article of the Quibbler? I’d love to do a piece with you on a Muggle-borns experience with all this - ”

 

“Oh for the love of - ” Ron put a hand on Hermione shoulder and took a step forward, “ - this wasn’t about us. She only wanted what you knew about Omegas.”

 

“Sorry, Luna. It was a privacy thing…” Hermione said.

 

“Omegas? But you don’t have any in your family, Ron. Don’t you? I’m sure you don’t…” She was rapidly flipping through her note book, each page filled with scribbled lists and drawings. She seemed frantic. "It can't be can Ginny? I predicted - "

 

“No, Luna - shh, please, everyone’s asleep. It’s someone else. We swore not to let anyone know though. They… erm… he came out very recently. He’s our age. As an Omega.” Ron said, volume low. 

 

“Awfully late to present as an Omega,” she remarked, “very stressful situation. His Norwackles must be terribly disturbed.” 

 

“Norwack - ? - ” Ron started incredulously,but stopped when he felt Hermione subtly squeeze his biceps to silence him.

 

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, “and we’re worried he could be putting himself and others in danger. He has school soon, like us. He seems a little unstable. We’re hoping we can figure out what’s wrong or at least how to mitigate the issue, we just… Don’t really know what’s going on. The Alphas he’s living with are acting unlike themselves sometimes. 

 

‘Has he bonded yet?” Luna asked. 

 

“No…” Hermione answered a little uncomfortably. “But he’s been told he may be partially bonded. I don’t exactly know what that means or what would verify a partial bond. I can’t seem to come up with much to explain it.”

 

Luna claps her hands together, there were dozens of little colourful strings tied around every inch of her fingers, and she managed a gleaming smile on her dazed face as she explained how exactly an Omega bonds itself to an Alpha. “Well it’s really quite fascinating. Very powerful Alpha’s can create such an impression with their magic that it remains attached to an Omega even without appropriately consummating. But,” she lowered her hands and the smile slipped from her face. “Omega’s often only partially bond in very dire, desperate moments where they feel at risk, or isolated. It’s an unconscious way of protecting themselves without even realising it. This boy must not be in a very safe environment, are these’s Alphas family?” 

 

They both shook their heads and Ron answered. “No but he’s safer where he is now than where he was, ungrateful if you ask me.” 

 

“And no one is asking, Ron,” Hermione hissed, elbowing him in the ribs. “So is that what it means? An Omega protecting itself by unofficially bonding to another Alpha?” 

 

“Yes,” Luna said, bending down and rummaging amongst her heap of things on the floor. She picked up a particular copy of the Quibbler and a tea cup with a chip in its rim. “Of course it’s not actually a good thing. It also doesn’t just stop at one Alpha - I assume this is happening to the Alphas your talking about -because it can be several Alpha’s magic swirling in an Omega at a time. If this boy is going to school it’s only a matter of time before he unintentionally creates another bond. Again and again…And again, and again, and again. It’ll leave him unstable. See this tea cup? Imagine putting tea in it, lots of tea. Different teas. First of all it probably wouldn’t taste very good eventually, some teas just don’t go awfully well together. But most importantly too much tea and not enough tea cup means tea spilling. If this boy is the tea cup he could break, too much magic can rupture out of him at once the next time he is in heat. It could be dangerous. That’s why Omega’s typically bond to Alpha’s, to help disperse the flood of raw magic.” 

 

“Is that why you brought the tea cup? For the metaphor?” Ron asked, scratching his red hair. 

 

“Yes! I’ve also brought this banana to explain - ”

 

“Oh, no, please that’s quite alright, Luna. You’ve already told us so much. They all really need to know this, it could really put them at risk. How do you undo it? Is there a way to extract the Alpha’s magic? How do we stop our friend from half-bonding to others and absorbing more magic?” 

 

“Well…he needs to mate. Once an Omega partially bonds to one Alpha it’s only a matter of time until he does it again. It’s the only way I know how to prevent it, at least.” 

 

Hermione bit her lip, Draco really isn’t going to like this news. Who would they even convince to bond with him in the first place? She frowned deeply and her heart ached sadly, of course she knew who. “Is there nothing else we can do?”

 

“Not really…” Luna said, she looked a little glazed in thought for a moment. “He would have to make sure there wasn’t another opportunity for his magic to attempt to bond to another Alpha. You can’t really account for the next time something happens, and it could really be anything. A stressful day, a fight with an Alpha, a broom accident! Even just him being close to or in heat… His magic will flare and try to absorb the magical essence of the closest Alpha in the room at the time. It would mean a lot of self control, and beetroot juice. Lots and lots of beetroot juice.” 

 

“Beetroot juice?” Hermione asked, losing track of all the information. 

 

“Beetroot juice stabilises Norwackles, of course.”

 

“…Of course.” 

 

“And when he… takes the magic of Alphas…What does that mean exactly? Is he really taking magic? Can Omega’s eventually take someones magic entirely, Luna? Can you?” Ron asked. 

 

“Oh no, no. It’s not like that, Ron. It’s not exactly stealing magic and more or less imprinting it’s spirit. Like his own magic is memorising it. If his magic was a painting then each new Alpha is another stroke with a different paint brush, and it can be beautiful and entirely unique, but with each time one can’t predict how much more the next paintbrush will paint. What if the next one entirely ruins the painting with too much lilac? It’s ruined! Omega’s are truly wonderful and powerful people, many have created some very interesting and powerful combinations of magic and have been very impressive, but with the potential to make so much magic comes at a huge cost. Some Omega’s hurt themselves badly, or lose their minds, or their freedom, or _worse_.” Her etherial tone hardened a fraction, but she resumed, “I digress. Your friend can really only bond, or each moment will only get worse. Heats are no good, and I assume he hasn’t done any of the proper preparations like tie Lillyroot to his ankles or even soak his pillow in vinegar.”

 

“So he has to bond or he can’t go back to school,” Ron said, almost to himself. There was the slightest hint of a smile tweaking the corners of his lips. “Wonder how he’s going to take it.” 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_The Next Day_

 

 

Draco was in the library, curled up in the red leather chair going through the last pages of his Charms textbook. He’d made his notes, organised and completed what of his summer work he could complete without the use of his wand, and was just about ready to say goodbye to this dusty, dark hellhole of a house. One more week, that was it, he just needed to wait one more week and then he would find a way on the train. With or without his damn wand Salazar so help him.

 

Speaking of, today was going to be the day he confronted Sirius about his wand. Professor Dumbledore still hadn’t gotten in touch, to say whether or not it would be alright to return to Hogwarts. So until a direct no was issued, he was going to confidently assume that it remained a yes. 

 

Draco felt an urge to look up, and couldn’t help the eye roll that overcame him. The three Gryffindors were all huddled at the entryway he left open, they all were wearing grim expressions on their faces that Draco felt cause his insides to flip. 

 

“What?” He let out slowly. Potter’s face grimaced at the tone of his voice. “What is it?” 

 

“Luna got back to us, it’s possible for you to go back to school.” Hermione said, she wasn’t quite looking him in the eye. 

 

“...But?” Draco prompted.

 

“...But you have to bond with an Alpha. Partial-bonding doesn’t just stop at one, with Harry. It keeps going until you lose control of your own magic. Being bonded keeps you from hurting yourself and others.”

 

“If you can’t do it we’d all understand, there’s plenty of good homeschooling options out there. I’m sure Headmaster Dumbledore can arrange something for you,” Ron said, his bleak stare swelled into something more optimistic. There was a grin slowly splitting his face as he flagrantly fantasised about Draco missing this semester. 

 

Draco’s sat there frozen, everything surrounding him slowed down as his thoughts raced. He knew this would eventually have to happen, it was why he’d convinced himself to seek Potter last night. Isn’t this what he wanted? The solution to guarantee his return to school. Potter wasn’t a permanent problem. Draco looked at him, his green eyes were blown wide behind his glasses. The expression on his face open and honest. 

 

What also haunted Draco to his core, he suddenly realised, was the now very real fact that if he weren’t to bond with an Alpha, Fenrir Greyback would remain a part of him till who knows when, tainting him on the inside. Despite feeling Potter’s magical presence swirl around him, overwhelming the darkness and rot, it still lay dormant deep down. Its existence reminded him of those chilling words: _I can smell it all. You want a good breeding. It’s all an Omega wants._

 

“Who will do it?” Draco asked with a small voice. 

 

The three gave each other telling glances, they clearly weren’t prepared for that ready response. Harry stood forward. “It’s up to you, but I also think you already made that choice.” 

 

Draco flushed crimson. That was that then. “We’ll talk about what you can and can’t do later.” 

 

“Okay,” Potter nodded. 

 

“And I need my wand back to finish assignments.” 

 

Harry falters a fraction. “I can’t do that, but you can have it back when we get on the train. I’ll buy what you need from Diagon Alley.” 

 

“Alright.” Draco said.

 

“Alright?” Potter parroted dazedly.

 

“ _Alright_?” Ron exclaimed, slapping his freckled forehead. “Is everyone actually serious?”

 

Draco leant back now, reeling from the negotiations, but he still managed to curve his lips into a feline smirk. Despite how close he felt to throwing up on the spot he wasn’t going to give an inkling of unease. “You want to keep an eye on me so I stay out of trouble, what better way to do that than by bonding to me. I’d like to go back to school and if this is what is keeping me from it then I’ll accept the terms. Potter, meet me tonight.” 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Draco’s heart hammered so painfully he wasn’t entirely sure if he was or wasn’t experiencing the tell-tale signs of a heart attack. The night came inevitably, like sleep, or death, and he waited just outside his bedroom for Potter to come out of his and make his way down the hall. 

“My room,” Draco whispered. It felt safe. Where he felt control. “We’ll do it there.”

Potter nodded and reached over Draco’s shoulder to push the door in. It’s old hinges groaned into the silence and they ushered each other inside before Sirius could see them up so late. 

“I don’t want to kiss.” 

Potter’s mouth twisted into a small frown but he nodded again. 

“Can I touch you?”

 “...Yes.”

Draco stood and waited for the other to approach him, prepared for the creeping warmth of another chest and the firm hold on his waist that only served to guide him a few steps backwards until the backs of his knees touched the bed. This close the complex details of Potter’s Alpha pheromones were on full display – arousal, excitement, fear, regret.

 

“You’ll need to take your clothes off, Malfoy.” He said, a little breathlessly.

Draco let his eyes shut for a moment, using the opportunity to ground himself. The faster he’s in, the sooner he’s out, and that will be the end of it. He reached up to tug free the lace of his nightclothes around his neck, it caused the seam to split and open, exposing his collar bone and pale chest. He pulled down further until the opening slid over and off his shoulders, pooling in a bundle of fabrics at his elbows.  He pulled on the second string below his bellybutton and the ribbon came undone, causing it all to collapse at his feet. Despite his nakedness Draco wouldn’t shake from the cold, only out of his control were his nipples which began to sting and harden. 

“Show me,” Harry commanded, the muscles in his throat visually bulged as he clenched his jaw tightly. 

Draco swallowed and eased back into his bed, elbows propped to hold up his head and shoulders. He followed Harry’s gaze to his own thighs, which he slowly parted by tilting away his knees. He felt his sex shiver in anticipation.  

Potter gripped Draco’s right leg and leant it forward until his knee was touching the bed besides his head. The angle forced Draco to collapse with his back entirely flushed to the mattress and his head hit the pillow with a soft thud. He felt utterly exposed and put on display like this. He felt his lips peel open the harder the Alpha pushed his leg away, and the air that ghosted over the wet skin felt like ice. As Potter came closer, his hot breath felt like fire. 

“You can’t come in me.” Draco whispered. He tried to mask the sound of defeat in his voice. He lost, plain and simple. His pride shattered at the falsely triumphant memory when he’d told Potter this exact situation would never happen in his life. “You can’t knot.” 

The hand holding the back of his knee gripped  tighter and Draco felt his body betray him with its enthusiasm, blood from his limbs and brain were making its way to slowly to fill his own cock.  

“Okay.” The Alpha ran the side of his hand down Draco’s inner thigh, signalling goosebumps to rise where it passed. The hand stopped where the inner thigh met right hip and gently stroked with the tips of his fingers.  Finally they moved again, now touching firmly over the plump swell of skin.

Draco braced himself for the tip of Harry’s thumb tracing soft lines up and down his opening. It pressed in gently to spread the lips, exposing swollen, wet pink flesh. The touch sent cords of sudden electric jolts up from the base of Draco’s spine to his short-circuiting brain, any coherent thoughts that formed there couldn’t survive and would combust. 

 

“You - you - “ You what? What more could he tell him not to do? It was inevitable. Harry’s cock had to enter him, a bite had to be made to the scent glands on his neck, or he was trapped until the war was over. Either the light won and he was free or the Dark Lord would kill them all, or they would find and punish him. Like Greyback had. 

_Like a doll._

The touch suddenly felt like a memory, and Draco found himself looking up at the bleary source of lemon coloured light, the sound of a lone creaking swing screaming in his ears followed by a deep, guttural growl. When was that night ever going to leave him?

_No, please!_ _Not like this…_

 

Draco turned his head away and stared blankly at his dressing table, its dust-marked mirror was showing him an image of a person who he couldn’t quite recognise. White blond hair and sad silver eyes. He was on his back too, and as he watched he noticed his head was lolling back and forth. Draco looked back to see it was Potter jostling his body as he slipped into position just over his spread thighs. He was still fully clothed, only having shirked his trousers down past his waist. 

 

 “I don’t know how this works do I just...? Do you need me to - “

 

“Just fuck me.” Draco felt his mouth say, his mind was retreating again, crawling into the furthest and darkest corners of his mind. 

 

He could already feel the sensation of slick build up, running trails down his perineum and over the mattress. His body was wantonly ready for its Alpha. He should have felt embarrassed, humiliated at the display, but the harder he tried to muster some kind of thought over the situation the more he came up blank. The truth was he realised he felt nothing. He’d already come to the conclusion that this would be his fate, a secret thought had passed once or twice telling him the path his life would take was already sealed the minute he began to present, the moment his sex developed.

 

 “Let me know if I need to stop…” Harry began, he held the length of his cock in his hand and was guiding the head just below Draco’s line of sight. The hot touch of it caused the blond to jolt and instinctually squeeze his free thigh closer to to the bigger boy’s flank. He slipped further in, and he could feel it pass and bump over every ring of muscle until it was hilted entirely, their bodies flushed against each other. Potter’s body was so hot it was causing the back of Draco’s thighs to start sweating slightly.

 

Harry replaced the hand still holding Draco’s left knee with his shoulder, forcing the leg to bend further down until it was almost squeezing the air out of Draco’s chest. Harry draped himself over him, and lay his head besides Draco’s, facing away so his black curls reached to tickle the side of Draco’s face.

 

“I’m gonna move – you ready?” He asked, still facing away. Draco imagined he had his eyes shut too. He seemed so keen some moments and so detached the next.

Draco nodded before realising it was pointless. “Mhm…”

The first thrust ripped a whine straight from his mouth.

Harry looked back at him and blinked, before smiling. Feeling encouraged, or perhaps realising his chance of revenge for all their years at school, Harry began to build momentum, snapping his hips wildly against Draco’s pelvis.

The sensation was absolutely indescribable – nothing like his boyish wanks or finger explorations in his arse – like his sex was expertly designed to receive pleasure. It was like a burning ember had fallen in a dry hay stack, it consumed him in seconds and he felt his skin vibrate with need. 

 

His mouth opened to scream and he was immediately silenced with Harry’s hand coming up to cover his lips. He didn’t shush him, or warn him, he just kept fucking. Harry was an unchallenged unit of force in this moment, riled by his Alpha needs. The hand still tightly gripping Draco’s lower half of his face twisted his head to the the side, straining the side of his neck and exposing it entirely, he could feel the gland had swollen and was pulsing impatiently.  

 

With a groan Harry planted his mouth over the aching spot and sank his teeth into it, forcing a jerk reaction out of Draco and a long howling scream into the other boy’s smothering hand. He thrashed at the pain - the familiar burn only that spot was capable of - and Harry held him down with the weight of his body until he settled to a couple of flinches and shivers. He moaned and muttered and mewled into the hand still clamped over his mouth, it refused to budge until Draco finally began to breath evenly and until Potter was convinced he wouldn’t scream again. 

Harry pulled his still hard cock out and finished himself over Draco’s belly with a few quick jerks into his hand. The cum landed hot and cooled in long ribbons over the length of his torso. 

“How do we know it worked?” Harry panted.

“I - don’t...” Draco began, he rubbed at the aching spot on his neck and stopped when he felt wetness at his finger tips, he pulled his hand away to see scarlet. “What the fuck?”

Potter had the decency to look sheepish, and to Draco’s horror he was only just  realising there was drying blood around his lips and jaw.

 

Panicked, Draco began patting the area down and pulling away to inspect how hard he’d been bitten, it hurt like hell but that wasn’t unusual. His entire palm came back coated in blood. As if on instinct (but it was hard to tell because Draco was confident his face must have looked pretty alarmed) Potter wrapped a hand around Draco’s wrist and lead it down to lie on the bed, warm green eyes staring him down steadily. He hated to admit it but the tight feeling beginning to build in his chest vanished, as if Harry himself willed it to. Had it worked? Was this a bond?

“Actually, I think it worked,” Harry eventually said, hand still holding Draco’s wrist soothingly, which he should have minded but didn’t. “I dunno’ how to explain it. It’s like...” He gave Draco’s wrist a squeeze and swiped the skin with his thumb, which he definitely should have minded but didn’t. “It’s like I can tell what you’re thinking, it’s weird.”

“That’s funny, I’ve always been able to tell what you’re thinking.”

“Really? Go on then,” Harry said, staring him down.

Draco smiled up at him, lips sealed shut.

 

“Well?”

A bubble of laughter erupted out of his mouth he didn’t mean to let out. “That’s it, nothing. You’re like a blank book.”

His shoulder was shoved gently but Harry was grinning back.

 “Arsehole.”

 

Instead of responding the blond turned his head back to look at his reflection in the mirror, there was now a small smile that wouldn’t budge on his flushed face. He  wouldn’t admit it but right now it like an indescribable weight had been lifted, like all the tension and burden of being an Omega evaporated ( - at least for now).  

 

_Let me make this clear...No Alpha will ever get their cock in me again._                 

Ha.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Maybe next time think about a silencing charm, aye?” Sirius said, his tone unreadable.

 

Draco sputtered into his tea, it splashed over his nose and onto the table. Kreacher instantly snapped his fingers and it vanished but the blond was still left to blush furiously in his chair. If only he could be snapped away too. 

 

“Ah.” He placed the cup down in front of his breakfast of porridge and forrest berries, his appetite had disappeared. “Oops.”

 

Looking up, Harry was silently sitting across from him at the table, his head hung down and face in his hands, wild black hair pooling out between his fingers.

 

Sirius said passively, stirring sugar into his coffee with a finger. “Yeah, oops.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

The gust of Floo fire that bloomed around Head Master Dumbledore felt as hot as steam from a heating kettle – barely enough to even flush his white skin pink. The green parted around him at his second step, and completely receded and disappeared into the kindled coals behind him at his third and final step into the sitting room of Grimmauld Place.

 

Tucked away inside his robes inner breast pocket was Harry’s hand-written letter, reminding him of his visit’s purpose: Draco Malfoy. The boy was sitting before him in the one of the many scattered leather chairs available, tucked in a way to look as small as possible. His head hung so shamefully low that his near white blond hair was hiding the majority of his face, only the slightest curve of his lower lip and pointed chin visible. 

 

Last time he had visited, Dumbledore remembered the miasma of fear, loathing, and - he kept his head from ducking with embarrassment at the thought - primal need for sex surrounding young Malfoy’s person. It had been an uncomfortable situation to say the least. Now, to his relief, the air was only filled with the smell of the fire and the room’s ageing furniture - Albus’ younger self would have easily picked up the scent of the boy’s sex, but now his body’s attentiveness to it has faded, only mindful of on-coming heats.Even the scent of Sirius, who was standing with his hip to the door frame, a dark shadow over his face, was lost to him. Albus understood the tension in the room was due to the hasty decision Harry explained being the mateship-bond between him and Draco. It was apparently supposed to prevent Draco from involuntarily and spontaneously overwhelming his magic by partial-bonding with too many others while at school, seeing as he wasn’t able to control it the risks were dangerous. He’d known about the phenomenon from Severus as soon as the examination was over, he unfortunately knew something like this would have needed to happen, and was put at ease by Harry’s eventual letter. 

 

“Sirius, good evening,” Albus said kindly, attentive to the growing storm in the man’s eyes and the way his gaze was still set firmly on the boy. “Draco, how are you?” 

 

Draco, who clearly had received enough reprimanding, going off by his swollen, tear stained eyes as he lifted his head, only stared blankly. Albus would need to keep his tone gentle and honest as he spoke, knowing one thing Draco didn’t need before returning to a school swarming with brand new Alpha students was to hate and fear them. 

 

“I wanted to take this moment, my boy, to apologise. To sincerely apologise for your situation.” Albus let out a groan as he sank into the opposite facing seat, weak knees thankful for the moment of rest. He leant back, pulling his wand out to conjure a spotted handkerchief, floating it towards Draco who reluctantly took it in his hand. There was still a shine in his pale eyes that promised tears. 

 

“You’ve already said that,” Draco said quietly, looking down at the handkerchief. “I don’t care that you’re sorry.”

 

“Malfoy…” Sirius snarled, a plain but effective warning. 

 

Albus let his hand rise to forgive the boy’s prickly attitude. “It’s alright.” He tapped his wand again and the long sofa nearby slid up close and he gestured at it while smiling at the growling dark haired Alpha. “Sirius have a seat, you’re making me nervous.”

 

“If it’s alright with you, Dumbledore, I’d like to stay where I am.” He said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He was still glowering heatedly at the crown of Draco’s pale head from behind. 

 

The old Alpha nodded gravely, choosing to comply and instead lowered his attention back to the student in front of him. “You’re right, actually. Words don’t matter sometimes, and this problem needed action. I let you down in that regard. I regret how I’ve handled this situation, forcing the matter onto you and Harry, instead.”

 

Silver eyes glowed gold in the fire light, staring openly and honestly into his own. 

 

“I wanted to be honest with you tonight…” He sighed through his nose, and suddenly he felt his age, if not ten times more.“I had a sister, did you know that?” 

 

A slow, deliberate head shake. No. 

 

“… _Ariana_ ,” Albus said wistfully, closing his eyes for a moment to picture her auburn hair and rosy, childish face. When he opened them again he saw a different, but just as young, confused face. “She had presented as an Omega too, many years ago. I was ignorant over these dynamics, and regretfully still am in many ways, and so I had ignored a lot of her needs. Her needs as a person, most importantly. I witnessed her mind and body deteriorate from isolation over the guise of wanting to protect her. She died as her magic consumed her during her heat. 

 

“I want to amend my sins, Draco. I understand now that keeping you locked away isn’t the answer, it can’t be. It will be safe for you to return to school if you choose to, I can promise you that. You have the choice. If you also choose to not go I can help find you a more suitable, long-term place to stay comfortably.I’m sorry things had you feel compelled to…bond with Harry, and I take full responsibility and blame for not coming to you sooner -“ He looked up to give Sirius a stern stare. “Frankly I’m a little relieved that Harry had volunteered to help.”

 

Draco said nothing, but a tear was beginning to trickle out of his eye. The tissue crushed in his hand, unused. 

 

“Oh!” Albus gasped delightedly, remembering something at the sight. His free hand slipped into his wide, gaping sleeve, disappearing into the opening to retrieve something. When he found what he was looking for amidst the dozens of things hidden in there, he pulled his hand out slowly, revealing a wand in his grip. Smooth hawthorn wood,inside hummed the magic of a unicorn hair core. “I mustn’t forget to return this to you, of course.” 

 

A soft gasp escaped Draco’s lips and he leant forward, creeping his body off the seat and inching as close as possible without actually physically standing. His hand reached out, palm up, to receive it as it was magicked towards him. When it landed, a surge of wind whirled around the boy, rustling his hair and nighttime clothes. His face was an open book of relief and awe at the familiar feeling.

 

Albus couldn’t help but let his pleasant smile develop into a toothy grin, a wizard reunited with their wand was always a heartwarming spectacle to bear witness to. 

 

Dumbledore let the quiet take over the room, a moment of mutual peace finally. 

 

“How will my parents be safe?” Draco said after a while, once the winds had calmed and the roar of magic settled. He was still examining the wood details down the length of the wand when he continued: “Professor Snape said if I was seen the Dark Lord would feel that his suspicions about my parents were true...” 

 

“Don’t worry about that,” Albus waved dismissively, still smiling. “I’ll have someone deliver your semester’s book and stationary list. Sirius you’ll help take care of that for him, won’t you?” The man answered him with a stiff nod. 

 

Feeling satisfied, Albus rose, grimacing at the pop in his joints as he did so. He made his way to the fireplace, plucking a pinch of floo powder from the bowl on the mantle. He tipped his pointed cap at the two silently watching him. Draco looked as if he wanted to argue and demand a better answer, but only - thankfully - rolled his eyes and collapsed back into the chair in a huff. “Well then, Draco, I’ll leave you to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll be seeing you in a weeks time, welcome back. Goodnight, Sirius. Take care of yourself.” 

 

He tossed the powder into the fire, it grew as he took a step into it, swirling around his robes in a flurry of green and submerging him until he was whisked away. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as Dumbledore leaves, Sirius rounded on Draco and crouched down onto his hunches in front of the him. The older man lent forward, palms braced on the armrests, effectively boxing Draco in and meeting his eyes. He could see him warily eye the wand in Draco’s hand, if he had a problem he didn’t mention it. The Alpha’s pheromonal presence was there, especially this close, but it could be ignored, unlike before when Draco hadn’t been properly bonded and was riding on the wave of his on-coming (and post) heat causing him to be delirious with need. It also seemed when Draco tilted his chin back defiantly, exposing his scent glands, it riled up Sirius more so than being trapped to the chair did for Draco. The Omega felt his lips curl into a small knowing smile. He was feeling a little giddy now. 

 

“How’d you convince Harry to do it? You haven’t poisoned him somehow, have you?” Sirius seethed quietly, his breath was hot and it smelt strongly of Fire Whiskey. Draco wondered if he’d be able to find it.

 

Draco couldn’t help but bark a quick, mean laugh in the Alpha’s face. What he said sounded so ridiculous it was practically a joke. He’d grown tired of this stupid interrogation, since breakfast this morning. Sirius was like a broken record, repeating the cycle of outrage and blame in predictable succession. Now his wand gave Draco the confidence he’d forgotten he had. He didn’t feel the fight or flight compass pushing him into flight. “Oh please you wish. No, like I said for the millionth time: It was _his_ idea. He initiated it, him and his friends.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“Believe me, don’t, I don’t care. I don’t care what any of you think. He’s satiated my problem and I can forget it ever happened, that any of this ever happened. I can leave you and him and this pig-shite, filth-ridden rat’s nest behind for good.” Draco was delighted to find that it was true, all of it, every word spilling from his mouth. He didn’t regret saying anything at all. He didn’t feel shame, or the need to duck his head in humility or appeasement at the thunderous stare Sirius was giving him. He didn’t feel the urge to please an Alpha. He felt like his old self, almost. It wasn’t like Sirius’ scent was gone completely, and this close Draco was powerless to the blush betraying him on his cheeks. It still smelt very nice. 

 

The hand that came to capture his lower face wasn’t expected and Draco froze, his wand ready with a hex on his tongue. The tip of it glowed between them, flooding the space with a faint red light. “Haven’t I heard enough from you for one day, Cousin Black? Haven’t you made me cry and apologise enough?” Draco heard himself mumble softly through his pursed lips. “Why does it piss you off so much to know Harry fucked me, why does it even matter? Who cares about a stupid fucking bond?”

 

The man was still growling deep in his chest, heaving as he did. The fingers crushing his cheeks tightened bruisingly before almost releasing, they remained holding his chin up ever so slightly. 

 

“I’ve known Omega’s like you back in school, when there were more of you. Selfish. Fucking selfish.” 

 

Before Draco could say a word Sirius continued, leaning closer until his jet black hair was tickling his forehead and nose. 

 

“You can’t just fuck whoever you please because you want to.”

  
  
“I needed to,” Draco whispered, the tears that had dried away returning with a vengeance. Even his wand couldn’t save him from the pain of cruel words. He was only a Wizard.“I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

 

Sirius let out a final snarl before pushing himself away. He stood, staring down at Draco with a look of furious displeasure, and stormed out of the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_The Daily Prophet_

_25th August, 1996_

_Hogwarts Headmaster Under Possession of Missing Draco Malfoy - Revealed Omega_

 

 

_Late evening yesterday on the 24th of August, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, 115, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reached out to make a statement regarding missing student Draco Malfoy, who’s disappearance was reported on the 12th of July._

 

_“Draco Malfoy was taken under my care last night after seeking refuge and has since been looked after in an undisclosed location. His newly presented status as Omega was a risk to his safety and well-being, his life was under critical threat as a result of V********’s current dismantling of the Old Ways._

 

_I would like to make the record precisely clear that Hogwarts will not acknowledge intolerance and only endorses action taken by Wizards and Witches alike to maintain a safe environment. We are committed to education, and Omegan children deserve this privilege as much as any other student in our care. Draco will not be making any statement until he is safely within school grounds should he choose to reach out to the Daily Prophet.”_

 

_Headmaster Dumbledore opted to not respond to comments._

 

_“Will we be seeing more Omega’s under his ‘special’ care? Is the Headmaster, an Alpha, mind you, reliable? I trust a harlem won’t be organised within this ‘safe environment’. Omegas should be home-schooled, taught properly. They need to be effectively reminded of their important role to society,” comments Pavlia Sternly exclusively, representative from the_ _Magical Orthodox Committee of Alpha, Beta & Omega Health & Standard (MOCABOHS)._

 

 

_“There are no ‘roles to society’ Omegas must play to anymore. The Old Ways are, in fact, over, that’s why they’re old! What a load of croc! We don’t fear for our kind like we once did, here in common society it‘s gravely unnecessary to even think about something so ridiculously barbaric,” adds Rud Barron, Omegan rights social activist._

 

_Parents of formerly missing Draco Malfoy have chosen to not comment._

 

 

 

* * *

 

_Next Day_

 

Harry and Draco had just finished putting on their coats when Sirius made his way into the living room. There was an active fire behind them and a fresh bag of Floo powder ready to be pinched from. As soon as Sirius spotted Draco reaching out for it, he rushed forward and snatched the slim wrist, yanking it up until Draco’s arm was stretched to reach Sirius’ height. The boy first yelped in shock, but after a few deliberate blinks the realisation came and he scowled, attempting to tug his arm free as his smaller body batted against the Alpha’s chest.  
  
“What the fuck - what have I done now?” Draco tugged again and this time Sirius let go, he watched for Harry’s reaction but there was only an annoyed twist to his mouth. Sirius was surprised that what bothered him most was that it didn’t rile his godson up more.

 

“I didn’t say you could come,” Sirius said back to the blond, shrugging on the denim jacket he was still holding in his other hand. He’d announced during breakfast that Molly let him know what time they would all be meeting at the Crows Cauldron Cafe. He didn’t necessarily say Draco was excluded, but he still wasn’t over last nights heated discussion and had (petulantly) decided on the spot that Draco would sit this one out. Sirius avoided keeping his eyes on the pale boy for too long, clear grey honest and sorely disappointed. “You’re to stay here until the term starts, when I see you both off at the station. Not before.”

 

Draco’s lips opened just enough to show a sliver of teeth, “But…”

 

“It’ll be fine, Sirius, he’s got his wand back – “ Harry began but his tone struck a nerve somewhere inside the older man, it was patronisingly soothing and exasperated on the same breath, like Harry wanted it to be known he was annoyed while trying to placate his godfather’s temper. Sirius whirled around, adding to his already enormous height and size as he stood straighter, glaring Harry down the length of his nose.

 

“If I remember correctly, Harry, wasn’t it you who said we couldn’t trust him? That he’s just a snivelling little baby – what was it - some prissy Omega? Would say and do whatever to get what he wanted?” Harry’s face looked shattered, and he immediately casted his green eyes to Draco, who was standing there awfully still. 

 

“I – I didn’t – “

 

Sirius rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh what, you ‘didn’t mean it like that’? Little difficult trying to interpret it differently, wouldn’t you say, Harry?”

 

“Sirius why are you doing this?” Harry hissed, his face was flushing angrily and he was beginning to shake. 

 

“Are you serious!” Sirius swiped his hand in the air, a hair’s length from Draco’s nose, the boy’s downward face was cast in shadow. “Merlin Harry you don’t know what you’re bloody doing! You keep making stupid choices - one minute you were talking as if you knew some sense and then the next you’re sticking your cock in some little bastard - who let me remind you he and his whole bastard family have said nothing but the most vile, unkind, down right rotten things to you. He’d betray you in a heart beat for his sick cult. Are you just gonna make it a habit to pull this stunt on the next fuckable thing making gaga eyes at you? A bond’s no joke mate, and you have no idea, do you?” 

 

Harry didn’t say a word, just glared on angrily, clearly still absorbing the insults. He didn’t need Harry to say it was true,“I bet Dumbledore didn’t feel the need to let you know that critical bit of info since he’s assuming this - “ he gestures to between the two boys “ - happens to work out. Which it won’t. He knows that too. He should have just let me leave it all up to Narcissa to deal with and save the absolute mess he’s conjured with the press -“

 

“ - You didn’t make it a secret that you wanted him too!“ Harry looked as if he was on the very edge of short-circuiting. 

 

“It was his bloody stink getting to my head,” Sirius lied, the truth was he was feeling the binds of jealously restricting his common sense. Draco really, really was beautiful, and smart, and surprisingly witty. Sirius also seemed to have one too many irreversible issues after his years spent in Azkaban - he was quick to aggression, spite, and especially distrust. He couldn’t help but be furious that the two of them went ahead with something like this without consulting him, which was probably for the best since he would have flat out refused. He would have had Kreacher or himself monitor Malfoy nonstop until Dumbledore had come out with a new plan. He had to begrudgingly admit that this worked spectacularly in the old man’s favour as the two boys got what they both wanted and would be in school without delay. Deep down he knew Draco had been honest about not having anything to do with the plan, but he still felt such a strong sense of betrayal that he couldn’t help but take it out on the Omega. It was easier to convince himself that it was all Draco’s fault. Of course the betrayal didn’t make any sense, Draco wasn’t his. But he didn’t care. It was the Alpha inside him that Sirius had forgotten, stirring enthusiastically every time he could smell the blond’s honeyed scent in the rooms or hear that self-assured voice cut through the maddening quiet of the house. He liked how it felt when he held Draco’s petite hand in his own, firmly but not painfully, just keeping it close. He’d liked gifting Draco books to read and finding him curled up on the chaise by himself, reading through them so fast Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d need to buy more the next day, but he didn’t mind. He wanted to dig his nose in that snow-coloured, feather light hair, to hungrily inhale and re-discover over and over the insanity of his smell. He wanted to slide his thigh up those slim milky legs and to feel the swollen sex twitch and drool in need. 

 

Sirius looked down at Draco then. “You almost had me going, made me think you weren’t so bad. Wasn’t that foolish.”

 

Instead of cowering and ducking smaller like Sirius expected him to, Draco finally lifted his head, tilting it up neatly and proudly. “Fuck you, honestly fuck you. Fuck both of you.” Despite his pride, and despite his words, Draco’s bottom lip still wobbled and glittered from the tears rolling their way down his cheeks. Before Sirius could snap at him the Omega had shouldered his way past and was making his way out the room and down the hall.  


Harry made a move to follow him but stopped, remembering they had planned to meet Hermione and the Weasley’s for their last minute school shopping. He sighed gravely and glared Sirius down instead. “Thanks for that.”

 

“Pleasure,” the man bit back sarcastically, tipping an invisible hat for added flair. 

 

Sirius half-expected and half-hoped Harry would shove him, or at least shout a little more, he didn’t know why he wanted the argument to keep going but he was itching for it. He felt only disappointment when he watched his godson collapse onto the sofa instead, scrubbing at his face beneath his glasses with his hands. “I think I deserved it, but you really were being a prick to him.”

 

Sirius sat down next to him and gave the boy’s knee a solid pat. “I know,” he mumbled regrettably. It really probably was for the best that Draco went back to school, that they pretend none of this ever happened, and so he couldbegin the gruelling process of wiping clean this whole house of Draco Malfoy’s existence. He gave in and also rubbed his face with his spare hand, trying to relax the lines of exhaustion riddled across his skin. “I really don’t seem to do well with Omegas.” 

 

“You keep saying, why’s that?” Harry asked, tilting this head towards him curiously.

 

He half shrugged. “I meant what I was saying about bonds - serious stuff.”

 

Harry watched on, intrigued. Sirius realised with sinking fear that he would need to explain himself now. 

“I knew an Omega in school, I think back then there might have been at least ten, Merlin probably more. She was popular as anything, they always were. With a lot of magical talent. You would have had to have been blind _and_ scentless to even consider her anything short of perfect.” He took a deep breath and imagined it; sweet, they were always sweet, it would make any rationally thinking Alpha salivate. Ravenclaw robes and a blue ribbon to match in her blond hair, not quite managing Draco’s snow-white, but light and beautiful regardless. He remembered when he and the boys would watch her cruise effortlessly across the school, like she was weightless, only being blown along by the gentlest breeze. She knew the impact she had and she wore it like you would a 30 karat diamond crown. He wanted to laugh at how like her Draco seemed in many ways… “One day she noticed me, but we assumed she would. Me or your dad.” He tossed Harry a quick, humouring grin. “We were popular boys after all.”

“Anyway, when heats come usually Omegas would either go home to their Alphas for the week or have their own rooms until it passed over. This was her second ever heat and she wanted to spend it at school, with me. I bonded to this girl, mate. Wasn’t really on purpose, just sort of happened. And fuck, did it end pretty poorly on my part. “

 

Sirius rubbed his hands together to draw in his thoughts more carefully. Harry had a brow quirked but he seemed more or less attentive and taking in what he was saying seriously. 

 

“So bonds with an Omega are really only for strong Alphas, magically strong, that’s what they used to tell us, we were taught it was necessary in order to create even greater power.” He felt like he was reciting his old conservative text books and lessons. It was drilled in him that strong mateships would mean magically superior offspring, and so his parents were always adamant about him only finding interest in talented, beautiful Omegas (one of the rare things he hadn’t disappointed his parents doing) - a bond with a Beta or another Alpha was nowhere near the same, but it wasn’t exactly looked down upon either. It was still preferable that Wizards and Witches married into respectable Alpha families; like how Narcissa, an Alpha herself, had done. Seeing as how the chances of anyone giving birth to an Omega was shrinking each year, traditional magical families learnt to settle. Voldemort’s first war and reign had done a scarily good job of purging what he considered useless and barbaric reminders of the Magical World’s shameful past. 

 

“The problem s’that Omegas can bond with whoever-whenever they want while an Alpha is stuck bonded with one Omega at a time. You’re stuck in this until it’s officially severed -“ He casually made a swift cutting motion with his hand “- by either time or Malfoy. You don’t get a choice in the matter. Not to say you can’t, y’know, have sex freely with whoever you want and stuff, it’s not a prison sentence, but bonding has something to do with the magic. Almost literally every important thing in our lives has something to do with magic.” His voice went hard.“What you really need to know is that If Malfoy ends the bond on purpose, it can fuck everything up.It would rupture your magic so significantly that it could do irreversible damage or kill you. Dumbledore doesn’t believe Malfoy has it in him to do something so serious - If he was to go mad and do something risky, you could _die_. I mean -” He suddenly fumbled, sheepishly rubbing his neck and grumbling the rest out with losing momentum. “…It doesn’t happen often, erm, it’s rare. And an Omegas be bonded one way or another, you can't let them go on for too long without it. It's not good for 'em. So Dumbledore doesn’t see the need in mentioning it because he’s confident that the two of you will just eventually keep away from each other naturally long enough that it dissolves on its own with time. He said he would explain it all to you himself at school, Draco's already planned to just be passed on to another Alpha and be done with it. Was just getting madder and madder…“

 

The crackle of the fire was a welcome distraction to the tense silence filling Sirius’ ears. He felt his heart hammer in his throat.

 

Harry was looking down at the scruffy sneakers he was always wearing, he never seemed to care about buying replacements. 

 

“What happened with you and the girl then?”

 

Sirius whistled out the breath he finally realised he was holding. “She grew pretty bored of me hanging around her too much - you’ll realise you can’t really help it, a bond just gets you feeling stupid and infatuated - she got her family to send her off to Beauxbaton and she found a rich frog of an Alpha there. It made me feel deathly sick for months, her suddenly being gone and out of the country, I could honestly tell you it felt like I was going to die. I could barely eat and I couldn’t even perform the simplest spells. I had to sit out that year’s Qudditch finals.”

 

Harry’s expression was empathetic. “What other stories have you heard?” 

 

“Not many, just a few like mine, some more serious. Like I said Dumbledore wanted to tell you himself so I better not say too much more.”

 

They both settled a little, Sirius was feeling relieved to get that off his chest. Harry was accepting it fairly well and that took the edge off. 

 

“So Draco has to be nearby?” Harry asked after some thought.

 

“No, it seems like he just can’t be somewhere too far, like out of the country. But he could also just cut it by himself, there’s not much known about how they can do that, though. I think there was only one or two cases of that happening in the last twenty years. “

 

“…Alright then, I guess you were right all along. I did act stupidly.” Harry said, sounding very gloomy.  
  
Sirius laughed (he made sure not to make it sound triumphant), and gave another friendly pat to the boy’s knee. “Forgiven, but keep you knowing about this between you and me, yeah? Dumbledore was pretty serious about it being something he had to go over with you himself.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Sirius mood lifted, and he considered bringing Draco back something nice from Diagon Alley as an apology - seeing Harry’s solemn response to the whole situation reminded him that they really wouldn’t have known any better. Harry had absolutely no contact to the Magical world almost all his life, and Draco wouldn’t have been any better, his conservative social circle was not exactly educational. Most old family’s would’ve ignored stories like these, since for them marriages were permanent and any kind of divorce, bond or lawful, was severely frowned upon. 

 

His eyes suddenly bulged - Diagon Alley - the Weasley’s!

 

“Oh shit! Harry we’ve gotta go - Merlin why’d you let me prat on for so long - “ Sirius scrambled to his feet, Harry besides him following suit and the two of them rushed for the Floo powder. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Oozing bonbons, liquorice wands, and all sorts of sweets weighed heavy in the pouch Sirius carried up the stairs. He was also attempting not to drop the text books, quills, new uniforms, personal cauldron, and potion ingredients on his way to Draco’s bedroom. It wouldn’t be that for long, he reminded himself, it would soon be just another spare bedroom. He held onto the pouch a little tighter. He possibly wouldn’t be seeing Draco for a very long time, if ever again.

He had to use his elbow to knock on the door, he waited a few seconds and when the door didn’t open he realised he was going to have to push the handle down and make his way in himself. 

Draco was watching him from the bed, curled up over several propped up pillows with a book in his hands. It was one of the several Sirius’d gotten him last week, a murder mystery with three blind witches or something like that. He just grabbed what ever was popular on the promotion shelf, he wasn’t a book reader in the slightest and couldn’t tell what was good literature or not.

“What do you want?” Draco said shortly, snapping the book shut.

“Clearly dropping off your things for you, Highness.” He tipped the contents in his arms over the writing desk near the door. “You’re welcome.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say thank you.”

 

“Look, I get it,” Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed, giving Draco enough space to keep him from lunging for his wand on the bedside table. “I was a right prick - “

“I’m getting deja vu,” his tone was cold as ice, “and I’m getting a little bored of bastards treating me like shit, apologising, and then doing it again. Just stay away from me and this week will be over shortly.”

“Hey, hey…” Sirius creeped closer, only an inch or two. Still not enough for Draco to panic and reach for his wand, but he did notice his silver eyes flash to it a couple of times. “You’re right. Wasn’t right of me and if you want I can take you out tomorrow morning for breakfast, I just can’t let you leave on your own until your in Hogwarts protection—“

“—I’ll pass.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind…”

“Was there anything else you wanted or were you going to keep wasting my time? Leave.”

Sirius could get up right now, walk out of this room and avoid him for the remainder of this week. Kreacher could keep Draco fed, sort out his laundry, or whatever small chore he needed done until it was time to shove him through the platform portal and onto the train for good. But he wasn’t moving. The bed was soft and the room smelt sweeter than the bag of lollies he hauled in here. Sirius swept the palm of his hand over the sheets, as if he was trying to smooth the wrinkles down, but really he was just wasting time feeling the fabric, pointlessly enjoying how soft the silk was.

 

He looked up from his hand thumbing a particular fold to Draco, who this whole time hadn’t taken his eyes off the man once. 

“You scared? I’m sure you’ve been thinking about what school’s going to be like…” Sirius felt the rumble in his throat, he couldn’t help it. The room was giving him head spins and he felt very obligated to watch that pink tongue sneak out of the blond’s lips to swipe at a dimpled corner. He felt like he very much needed to be here to experience whatever was happening with that face while Sirius spoke like this. He let his voice get an octave deeper, slower. “And what the big, new Alphas on the block will think. You ready for that?”

Draco hesitated, he clearly had thought about it, he must have. He seemed to struggle with articulating how to precisely tell Sirius to fuck off. He glanced at his wand again, and Sirius slid another inch closer.

“You can’t make me feel small anymore.” Draco whispered, fierce and throat-cuttingly sharp.

“Not trying to.”

Sirius was getting flashbacks to their first week together, during breakfast. Draco was fidgeting with his cuticles just like he was now, the same faint blush creeping its way from his neck to the high points of his cheeks, eyes glassy yet alert.

 

_“Magical Law? How very astute of you.” The blush on Malfoy’s cheeks had deepened, and it seemed as if he was finding it hard now to concentrate on his breakfast. His honeyed scent was stronger than ever, if you could see it it would probably be oozing out of every pore on his small body._

_“Yes - I - hm,” Malfoy was unraveling on the spot. “I - um - I think I’m done now. Thank you for breakfast.”_

Before he could even realise what he was doing, Sirius had slid up close enough that he felt Draco’s bare toes press into the denim of his outer thigh.

“…I’m not scared.”

“ – hm?” Sirius blinked lazily, this close he could see the network of silver fibres in Draco’s irises.

“I’m not scared of going back to school.”

“Yeah? Knowing you I’m sure you’re absolutely preening for the attention you’ll get.”   
  


“You’re right.” There was a coy smile on Draco’s face, and Sirius had to pull back slightly to make sure he heard right. The boy’s eyelashes were lowered flirtily, and he was toying with a stray strand of hair above his brow. What was happening? This wasn’t like before. This seemed highly unpredictable and Sirius felt like he needed to go.

 

So why was Sirius still here? He should really leave. He should most definitely be leaving right now at this exact very moment…Why wasn’t he moving?

 

_Oh_ , it might have been because Draco’s smirking lips were a centimetre from his, his smaller body leaning in so close Sirius was feeling uncomfortably warm from the heat radiating off it. 

 

“I love attention,” Draco whispered. Sirius let his mouth hang open a little, feeling the foreign puff of air ghost over his tongue and teeth. He almost could taste berries. “Because I can do something like this…”

 

His lips were velvet smooth and burnt like dry ice. A tongue slithered over Sirius’ own - Gods, a guttural growl rolled out his throat - and the sensation sent a lightning fast current of pleasure from his brain to his cock.

 

“Oh fuck…” Sirius let out, his hands flew to the blond’s neck, holding his head still as he deepened the kiss. His body suddenly felt like it was on fire and kissing Draco at this very moment felt like the one thing that made the most sense. He stole a bite of his lower lip, and kissed it better when Draco let out a little mewl of pain. Sirius felt a frenzy coming on, he was soon beginning to sweat. His skin wasn’t cooling down and it was beginning to sting incessantly. He felt it in his face, his back, even his feet. “…Oh fuck!” He gasped again, he slowed down and pulled away enough to look down at his hands gripping the flesh just beneath Draco’s jaw. 

 They were bright red and enflamed with sore, swollen cysts. 

 

“…Pimple jinx?” He was almost speechless. Draco’s wand had made it from the dressing table to his hand when he stopped paying attention. 

 

The damned smile was still on his stupid, beautiful face. 

 

“ _Leave_.” 

 

This time he did, tail between his legs. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii! sorry for the long wait and i know i promised hogwarts this chapter but i realised i needed to tie off a few loose ends first before i did so i had to write this first - trying my best to make the dynamics make sense but it leads to me over explaining a lot sometimes!!!
> 
>  
> 
> *wow major edit i realised i mixed up all the dates. my high ass sorry ahahah


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

Fresh air filling his lungs was never something Draco imagined he’d ever tear up over - albeit fresh air was a stretch, in fact it stunk – and yet there he was blinking back the wetness filling his eyes.  His mouth could taste the famous London smog and the clouds of black waste bellowing out of the dozens of Muggle vehicles whizzing around in organised chaos. He had been cooped up inside Grimmauled Place for nearly two months, it was long enough for him to be grateful for the smell of anything other than dust and Kreacher.  
  
Sirius ushered the two returning students into the heavily packed train station. It seemed like it was at its capacity with thousands of Muggles bustling around them, along with a few dozen Wizards and Witches who weren’t very convincing in their disguises ( - Draco was no expert but he was pretty sure Muggles didn’t wear ties around their foreheads or socks as earrings).

  
  
“You’ve never come through to the platform this way, have you?” Harry asked over his shoulder, he was slightly ahead of Draco pushing a trolly carrying both of their luggage and his caged snowy owl.

  
  
“Of course not. Why wouldn’t you just Apparate onto the proper station? Why go through all these extra steps?”  


 

“Because—”

  
“Because it’s easier to keep track of bigger groups this way, no one can get lost and it’s nice to know I don’t have to worry about anyone bloody splinching themselves,” boomed a high-pitched, authoritative voice. Draco looked for its source, and to his absolute horror could see Mother Weasley marching towards them with several red heads bobbing in tow behind her.

  
  
“Oh no... I can’t be seen with this lot,” Draco groaned under his breath, tucking his chin to hide his face in his scarf. He was loud enough for Harry to hear and to elbow his arm sharply.  


  
“Shh - don’t you start.” Sirius shushed - seeming to have heard him too - and came forward, deliberately covering Draco with his body. “Hi Molly, how’re ya?”  


  
“Good, good! Busy, but good.” She looked behind her and gestured frantically at the two tall figures weaving their way out of the crowd, “Fred, George, finally! Did you two find Ginny’s you-know-whats?”  


  
“Mum!” Ginny groaned, casting her eyes somewhere to the distance and hiding her blushing face with a hand. “That’s private.”  


  
“You-know-whats? Any idea what she’s on about, Fred?” Beamed George.

 

“No clue. Did she mean.... these pheromone suppressants?” Fred asked exaggeratedly, like a circus ringmaster, pulling out an emerald bottle and waving it in the air. “I hope she meant these or we would have sorely wasted our time!”  


  
“She presented just yesterday,” Molly said to Sirius proudly, ignoring Ginny’s scream as she attempted to jump and lunge for the bottle still being showcased to the world. “My new little Alpha’s a little embarrassed by it.”  


  
As that was still going on, Weasley split off from the unruly group to clasp Harry on the shoulder.  


  
“Wotcha, Harry.” Weasley said, dropping his tattered suitcase at his feet. “Malfoy.”  


  
Draco didn’t say a word, he looked up at Harry expectantly. The faster they exchanged their boring pleasantries the sooner they could get a move on and the sooner they could get on the train. They just had to make it past the portal… Draco was already on edge, paranoid and keeping an eye out for Death Eaters he could recognise. His eyes would automatically draw in on anyone he mistook wearing the skull mask or black cloak.  


  
“Where’s ‘Mione?” He heard Harry ask casually, none of them made a move to get going.  


  
“She’s running late, we’ll see her on the train.” The way Ron looked at Draco as he spoke gave him the impression that Hermione probably didn’t want to deal with the consequence of another exhausting interaction between them.  


  
“Oh - alright. Did you finish McGonagall’s theory sheet?”

 

Stress was making it harder for Draco to avoid squirming where he stood, he could already feel the back of his neck tingle and tickle with beads of sweat. There was a pit of nerves coiling incessantly in his belly like a fat, agitated snake. He really didn’t want to hang around the exposed and heavily public Muggle train station for much longer. He looked up at Sirius, who was too busy talking to Molly Weasley and her husband to notice him - the man’s name always escaped Draco, but it’s not like it was important.  


  
He hoped his panicked scent would have alerted Harry, his Alpha, but either he was too invested in talking about what seemed to be the Chudley Cannons’ latest season game to notice, or frankly didn’t care, because he wasn’t glancing at Draco once.   


  
Draco decided to take a step forward and reach out to take a small pinch of Harry’s sleeve, he tugged it gently for attention. When he got it, he furrowed his brow a little and gave a desperate look that he intended to scream: I want to leave NOW.  


  
Harry quirked his own brow. Suddenly between them it felt like an on-going conversation was happening in real-time just using their expressions alone. Back and forth. A head tilt here, a pursed pout there, then a quick but knowing smile. After what seemed like only a few seconds but felt like an absolute eternity Harry pulled back like he finally understood.  


  
“Anyway...” Harry started, looking back to Ron who wasn’t making even the slightest effort to hide his sneer at the display. “We should probably get going before we miss out on the good seats.” The wash of relief felt like a breeze of cold air to Draco, and slowly he let go of the sleeve he only just realised he was still holding.  
  


 

* * *

 

  
The portal felt like he was passing through a curtain of water, it gave little resistance when he threw himself at it in a run. He had his eyes shut in an instinctual brace for impact, and when he opened them the red brick was gone and before him was Platform 9 3/4. Draco immediately scanned for anyone already in their Slytherin uniforms, and the parents that shadowed them. There were too many students shuffling around for him to get a proper assessment of threat, but to appease that same stubborn lump of nerves in his gut Draco hiked the scarf higher up his neck to hide even more of his face.  


  
The platform was naturally lit from the morning sun creeping overhead, it gave the steam train’s paint an emerald jewell glow. Draco was now wishing he’d worn a hat because the white light that beamed from the clouds caused his famous hair to light up like a beacon, but it seemed that without the towering presence of his father and mother, no one really seemed to notice. He pat it down with his hand anyway.  


  
“I guess I’ll be seeing you two off, then,” said Sirius ruefully, his hand came to land on Harry’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze, his other hand did an awkward hover for a few seconds before the man clearly determined touching Draco was not quite worth the risk and put it down. “If you need anything Draco you can always owl me, you’re still technically in my care, after all.”  


   
“Oh don’t worry, I won’t.” Draco wasn’t even looking at him, more interested in watching the blue-grey house elf Apparate before them, bowing down in a snap to point it’s wrinkled bald head towards their shoes.  


  
“Sirs, Bitsie will take your bags now, yessir yessir!” It’s voice had the likeness of a squeaking toy. The luggage swung up into the air at the click of it’s long, clawed fingers, and made their way into one of the storage compartments at the end of the train.  


  
“I’ll be off then.” Draco said mildly once he saw the suitcases disappear, picking a piece of lint off his jumper’s sleeve. He could instantly feel two pairs of eyes attempting to bore their way into his head. Nothing they could say would convince him to stay near by, he already decided he’d be meeting up with his friends at the front of the train, their usual spot since First Year.  


  
“Erm…Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Harry asked, his face was a perfect picture of disappointment. He was doing that thing Draco was beginning to notice where he rubbed at the nape of  his neck back and forth when he wasn’t happy about something. “Can you trust them?”  


  
Draco let out a little laugh, it sounded lifeless in his ears. “I trust to know what they would do and how they would think. Unlike your lot. Too little brains to go around makes you unpredictable and I’d avoid that if I can. Ta.”  


  
He sauntered off towards the train, ignoring the call of “Wait!” and “Hold on!”.With a quick, sharp breath he hopped over the gap in the platform and felt this feet land easily onto the entrance’s carpeted floor.He dared to turn to see if either of them had followed him, and concluded with a strange concoction of emotions that they hadn’t. With a final meditative exhale - allowing himself a second of mindfulness, to remind himself that this was all somehow real and actually happening - he pushed into the gangway’s door leading to a hall way, which was filled with busying students unpacking, chatting or deciding which compartment they’d be sitting in. 

 

As he walked, Alphas stopped. They seemed to lean into his path to catch his scent, intrigued by him. Draco wouldn’t give them a chance to recognise him - for the first time in his life he was disinterested in attention – he only continued to move at a quick pace. As far as he knew there weren’t many Omegas at all (even Loony Lovegood was a surprise to him…of all people) so him feigning ignorance over his new celebrity status wasn’t an option, he just had to try his best to avoid as much commotion from people as possible until he could seek refuge with his friends. It felt like he couldn’t move fast enough, eyes inside compartments trailed him like a prisoner’s ball and chain.

 

But before he could even reach the hall door that connected to the next passenger car, a Hufflepuff boy had stepped out of his compartment - he was possibly in 4th or 5th year - and gawked a little. He was as tall as Weasley with wheat coloured hair and brown eyes. The boy had taken a big enough step and angled himself in a way that meant he was standing entirely in Draco’s path. Draco let a sneer ripple over his naturally passive face.  


  
“Hi,” the boy said in false surprise, gravitating forward. His growing smile was too uncomfortably large and eerily cheery for Draco’s liking. Each time he spoke too-warm air puffed from his mouth and blew over Draco’s face. “It’s Draco - right? It’s nice to meet you - Wow - Do you wanna sit with me in here? I’m Owen Claudwell by the way, I’m in Hufflepuff - oh, I guess you already knew that -“ he blushed and gestured to his uniform he’d already dressed himself into “ - You have nice hair by the way. Stylish. Sorry – Is that weird to say? I, uh, I heard what happened from the Daily Prophet - Oh - I read the Quibbler article too. Real interesting stuff I had no idea being an Omega could…” He was rambling now, and Draco stopped listening. He only wanted to be on his way. _Wait_ , he paused as he was about to inch around the other boy. What was he talking about? He looked up.   


  
“ What the hell is the Quibbler?”  


  
The boy’s light eyebrows sprung into his messy fringe, eyes bright and delighted by the question. “Oh you don’t know? Everyone’s reading it right now, it published a new article recently…” Either he didn’t realise or he knew exactly what he was doing, either way, the taller boy put his hand on Draco’s shoulder.  


  
Draco felt his insides twist unpleasantly. He decided he’d had enough. “Look I’m not interested. Can you just get out of my way - ” The hand curled into his flesh tighter through his jumper and he could feel a thumb attempt to burrow into the fabric of his scarf, seeking skin. “Stop - What the fuck - “  


  
“Oh, Draco. There you are.”  


  
It was Loony Lovegood. Draco couldn’t actually remember the last time he had seen her in person, he vaguely remembered casting her school things into the lake once in second year and since then she tended to keep away from him. She was dressed in a mess of loud and obnoxiously bright patterned clothes, chunky jewellery hanging from her ears, neck, and wrists, and her yellow-blond hair was held up in four pig-tails with ribbons tasselled decoratively into them.  She looked like an absolute clown. She also looked as if she had just stepped out of a nearby compartment, probably selling her weird junk and insane tabloids.  


  
“Oh – Er – Loon – Luna. Hi,” Draco took the opportunity to step back, out of arms reach from the Hufflepuff Alpha.

 

“I wanted to see you, do you have a moment?” With an expression so vague and absent, it was a bizarre juxtaposition when she paired it with a firm tone of voice. As she came closer, Draco noticed she had a funny smell to her, it was uniquely pungent like sort of onion, it might explain the small linen bag he only just noticed hanging around her neck. Was it to keep people away?  


 

The smell seemed to effect the Alpha boy even more going off the way his hand flew from Draco’s shoulder to cover his nose and mouth, the repulsed expression clear as day. It delighted Draco to see him physically struggle to get his words out without vomiting. “Nice - hrk - to meet you - Draco -“ He took a step back further, his back now pressed into the door he had come from “ - Might see you sometime - gack - during the ceremony?”  


  
_Don’t count on it._

 

“I’ll be busy.”

 

The boy grinned anyway, which was very unsettling, and cued his escape back into his passenger compartment with the rest of his laughing friends who seemed to have been watching the whole time. 

 

Draco turned to look back at Luna now, he almost wanted to offer her his thanks but decided against it. Although, maybe she might know something. 

 

“He mentioned a… Quibbler article?”  


 

“Oh!” She had the decency to blush, but she never seemed capable of looking embarrassed. She held up the stack of magazines in her hand and lifted one up. Draco observed its glossy cover; it was littered with baiting phrases and tabloid titles. **LunaLove: Find romance suited to your dynamic under the light of this month's new moon!, Can you get fat on pheromones suppressants? and Omegas - the truth, the story, the secrets!** Its cover was an illustrated picture of a pair of eyes, rapidly blinking out little hearts from the pupils. The eyelashes were cartoony looking things; buggy stick-like and twitching as the eye blinked.  


  
Merlin, this school was filled with idiots. Draco suppressed the urge to slap his head in frustration in case it left a bright mark. “And people have been buying these off you?”

 

“Oh yes, this is my third stack! I’m going down this way so let me take you to the front.”

 

Before Draco could attempt to politely decline (parenthesis politely was a stretch since the phrase ‘fuck no you absolute lunatic’ was dancing temptingly on his tongue) Luna linked an arm with his and began to gently guide him through the door and down the train. Instead of yanking his hand out and insulting her absolutely bloody, Draco decided to lean into the pull and accept his awkward fate. People conveniently parted around them, the Alphas especially incapable of staying within several feet of her. Draco reasoned to himself that in her defence she had proven herself useful and his saviour only minutes ago, also her talking was relatively harmless. She was mostly talking about her Quibbler article, apparently it was published as soon as Dumbledore made his statement for the Daily Prophet. Luna boasted how it was their most successful story sold yet, followed by a record number of new subscribers.

 

Draco hummed to let her know he was still half listening. 

 

“Why didn’t that boy leave me alone when I told him to? Is this going to happen a lot?”

 

Luna looked at him sadly for a moment. “Just because an Omega is mated doesn’t automatically hide the allure, especially since you’re newly mated it poses an even greater risk. New Alphas will only see it as a challenge. It’s like an opportunity to impose their prowess to rivals and to potential Omegas. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm, must just be getting used to things. That’s how it goes.”  


 

  
“How do you manage…you know…without being bonded?” Draco asked, painfully trying to calm the quiet rage inside. It wasn’t fair, he didn’t want to be patient with new Alphas. Their lack of control wasn’t his fucking problem.

 

  
She looked up and tapped at her chin. “Well, I was fortunate enough to present early like you’re supposed to. It makes the ordeal much easier to cope with. I also wear this - ” She held up the linen bag with its mysterious contents “ - keeps away the pesky ones. Well, everyone really. That works for me. It’s also good for Blue Nose. That’s when your nose goes blue from -  


  
“ - Are there really not that many people who present as late as I have?” Draco interrupted, not patient enough to listen to her spout her nonsense.  


  
“Well I’m sure there have been, I just don’t know any I’m afraid. There’s just not that many of us at all to say for sure.” She smiled at him and held out a vial she retrieved from Merlin knows where. “Here, it’s beetroot juice. I was meaning to give this to you. It helps when you’re getting close to your heats.”  


  
Draco reluctantly took it. He rotated the corked vial in his hand and watched the berry coloured liquid tip from one end to the other. He slipped it into his hand held luggage. Luna parted ways with him as he made it to the train door leading to the front section, he watched her drift into a compartment filled with a group of Ravenclaws who looked obviously exasperated at her arrival. Draco almost felt a little bad for her – he blinked. No, he didn’t. Did he? Best not dwell on it because when he turned around he was at the last compartment at the very front of the train, just before the magically operated steam engine. He put his hand on the handles of the first to two sets of doors, the gold reflected a warm image of himself, he could see the fear and uncertainty all over his face. 

 

_“School your face, Draco, let no-one know how you ever truly feel. Do not give them the opportunity to exploit weakness,” his father said behind him, his hand lay just above Draco’s head on the large dining room doors, beyond them would be the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters sitting at their very own table waiting for them._

 

_“I know.”_

_  
_  
As he pulled the train door aside, he could easily make out all the Slytherin students; Pansy was lounging across one of the booths, curling her black hair around her finger lazily as she listened to Blaise talk. They were both in the latest robes - with Pansy in her fiery red coat with white trim, matching skirt and accessories, and Blaise in an envious one piece robe, blue-black with a stunning dragon stitched from his shoulder, curving down and around his torso to his back, it was enchanted to wave gently like a flag. Shame was soon becoming a common feeling to Draco as he remembered that he hadn’t been up to date for two months. It wasn’t like he could get his hands on the most recent copy of Sorcier Séduisant. He looked down at himself, he was wearing his muggle outfit for the train station - his grey slacks and emerald jumper. He felt severely under-dressed for his first day of school. Showing off your newest and most expensive clothes was always an event in and of itself compared to the actual new or re-arrivals to Hogwarts. Pansy noticed him in a flash, and her freshly painted lips split into a feline grin.  


 

  
“Our latest celebrity!” She crowed. “Looking delicious as always!”  


  
“Smelling delicious.” Groaned Adrian Pucey in ecstasy, his head tilted back as he inhaled lengthly. His arms were splayed out long and casually on either side of him, resting on the back of his booth seat. “Finally an Omega in _Slytherin_!”  


  
He was right, Draco’s realisation dawned on him, he was the only Omega presented in Slytherin as of yet. He almost craved the undeniable attention he would get, however the fear of all the attention from classmates connected to the Dark Lord was causing his heart to pace faster in his chest. He gave a flirty wink as he magicked his luggage overhead. The train whistled and the roar of its enchanted engine announced the train’s soon departure from the station. He realised that many familiar Slytherin faces still weren’t present.  


  
“Where are Crabbe and Goyle?” Draco asked, looking around the compartment for their imposing silhouettes. “Gone to harass the food trolley woman, I’m assuming?”  


  
“You haven’t heard? Their parents pulled them out, they must not have wanted their sons fraternising with us  _apostates_ ,” Pansy answered.  


  
“So…They won’t be here at all this year?” Draco felt deflated but did his best to not show it. Instead he just briefly looked out towards the last of the parents on the platform saying goodbye to their children inside the train through the windows, some were already disapparating or charging through the numerous stone wall portals. He cast a hopeful thought that maybe it was a mistake, and that he would see Crabbe and Goyle out there among them, only running late for the train. Without their protection and loyalty Hogwarts suddenly seemed a whole lot more daunting. The train was starting to move, any possible hope for them left behind on the platform.  


  
“Yes, yes,” She dismissed. “More importantly where did Dumbledore imprison you all this time, darling? Why did you never write back to my letters?” She moved aside to offer room for Draco, who took his place next to her. She wrote him letters? He felt his mood perk up a touch.  


  
Draco ran his hand through his hair as he heaved a dramatic sigh which delighted her. “You’d never believe it.”  


  
“I’ve come up with some guesses already, you tell me which one’s right.” She countered, propping her chin on her interwoven fingers as her elbows rested on top of the booth’s table. This close he could see the eyeshadow she was wearing was a bold shimmery black, it made her light brown eyes look almost gold. Her hair clips had miniature fires enchanted on them to match her outfit. “If I guess right you have to tell me what a heat is like.”  


  
Draco choked a little.  


  
“Why would you want to know that?” Blaise interjected, his nostrils were flaring a little and he was turning his head away to watch the passing scenery outside. Oh. Draco was now realisingthat Blaise was an Alpha now, it must have happened over the summer holidays and he was reacting to Draco differently. If he concentrated he could almost catch a subtle but warming smell of wood fire and leather. It was dampened by what he guessed was Blaise’s pheromone repellants, along with the ever constant presence of Potter that he could smell off his own skin and clothes.  


  
“It just seems so - I don’t know - sexy! Going wild and sex starved, gives me goosebumps. I’m so jealous.” Pansy said, physically collapsing over the table now with her eyes shut as she pictured it. Being Beta meant she was shut out from an entirely different world of senses, but Draco envied her and felt bitterness well up inside, the slight mental control an Omega had over an Alpha meant nothing when Draco was constantly on the cusp of fear over something regrettable happening... The sensation of claws running up the back of his neck filled his mind… _’Draco’ Growled something in the dark, “Draco…Draco…Draco…”_  


  
“Draco? Draco!” A hand was waving in his face and he had to blink a couple of times before he could respond.  


  
“Huh? Oh. Go on,” He said, he casually tucked a strand of hair away from his face, his finger swiftly swiped away the sweat attempting to bead on his temple.  


  
“Anyway,” Pansy said, huffing a lock of black hair out of a heavily mascara’d eye, “was it with the Weasley’s?”  


  
“No,” Draco said mildly, recovering quickly and observing his cuticles now, “if it was you would have found out in my suicide obituary.” Blaise smirked as Pansy let out a quick giggle.  


  
“Alright then, I thought I’d ask that just for a laugh. It must have been with his favourite pet Potter then, where ever he keeps him.”  


  
Draco rolled his eyes at her. “Why play the game at all if you already clearly knew?”  


  
“That’s no fun,” she bat her eyelashes at him. “Now tell me, you must have had one already.”  


  
“I’ll...” Draco hesitated, “I’ll tell you some other time. After dinner.” He really wasn’t interested in revisiting the memories of his first time, which always seemed to fill him with an immense sense of suffering. It hurt, it burnt, he was dehydrated the whole time and his sobbing had caused his eyes to puff to the point they nearly sealed shut. He dreaded the next one in two months time; he made a mental note to arrange a private room for himself once he saw his Head of House.  


  
“Have you gotten yourself mated then, Malfoy?” Marcus Flint called from his seat closer to the front of the carriage. “I could offer my services next heat.” He winked with a slow growing smile.  


  
“You need a real Alpha,” Adrian announced boldly before Draco could say a word, “an Alpha with brains and a good cock, I’ll give you that.”  


  
Draco immediately flushed and felt a nervous trickle of sweat slide down the hallow of his back.  


  
“Can’t you fools tell he already has one?” Blaise said, staring the two down at the end of the aisle.  


  
There was a whoosh of acceding sighs, clearly they could but chose to ignore it.  


  
Draco sank lower into the booth, he’d never felt the need to make himself feel so small amongst his classmates until now.  


  
Pansy lent in to whisper, “Who is it?”  


  
Draco closed the distance subtly to whisper back under his breath, “Can’t guess that one too, Pans?”  


  
There was a smirk blossoming on her lips as her eyes lit up with understanding. “Potter?”  


  
“Wouldn’t let me come to school otherwise.”  


  
“Harsh. Couldn’t trust you not to shag every student in Hogwarts?”  


  
Draco laughed, but it was technically true.  
  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 

  
By the time they arrived at Hogwart’s lake it was dark, now way past sunset. They were all lead to the boats using Thestrals fastened to carriages. This wasn’t Draco’s first time seeing them, as he recalled the Dark Lord killing a witch in their home in year 4, he was standing beside his mother at the time who was gripping his hand tightly as they watched. He remembered the sound her lifeless body made when it dropped to the ground.  


  
Harry caught up to him before he boarded the boat, he gripped hard at Draco’s elbow and pulled him aside, his voice low and hushed. “Was everything okay on the train? Anything happen?”  


  
Draco snatched his arm back and held out a hand to push Harry’s chest slightly, encouraging him to take a step back and out of his space. No one needed to see them be too close. “It was fine. Oh, there was this one plan to curse the hat to choose only Slytherin this year, or was it to eat their heads? Something like that, evil things, you know how we are. Anyway, Pansy doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Ciao.” He turned and waved over his shoulder before hopping into the row boat with Pansy and two fifth year girls he didn’t recognise. Blaise had escaped as soon as they got there onto a boat with Marcus and Adrian, clearly incapable of being in too close of a proximity with Draco. Harry on the other hand, his Alpha, was still staring at him angrily for a few seconds before huffing, flinging his arms in the air like some sort of angry gorilla, and then marching away towards the further end of the lake where his boat was most likely waiting for him.  


  
“Trouble in paradise already?” Pansy said, now dressed in her school uniform, hat and cloak included. She was draped over the side frame of the boat swirling the black water with her long finger nail.  


  
“Shh, Pansy,” Draco whispered fiercely, giving her a pointed look to remind her that they weren’t alone and that he’d promised to explain it to her later if she kept quiet. He didn’t want the rumours to spread before the Sorting Ceremony could even start, he didn’t know if he could handle the entire Gryffindor table glaring him down instead of their usual cheers and applause for their new cult members. He snuck a glance at the two other Slytherin girls - they were chatting amongst themselves, but you could never be so sure.  


  
As the boat took off, the two girls huddled together with their lit wands, reading a page out of that damned Quibbler. Every so often they would peek up to watch him before ducking down again to suppress their giggles behind the magazine. They were nearly there but Draco felt like he’d had enough.  


  
Draco narrowed his eyes. “If you two fat little nobodies were finished with your tabloid, I’d appreciate it if you stopped gawking and minded your own fucking business.”  


  
Their eyes bulged a little but they immediately flipped the pages and quietly continued to read the rest of the articles.  


  
Satisfied, he cast his bored gaze down towards the murky bog water. Even in the dim lamp light you could make out the silhouettes of inquisitive and sleepy mermaids beneath, they rose up just close enough to you could make out faint details like hair and scales but they tended to avoid breaking the waters surface tension. The sound of mild waves rocking against their creaky boats were soon taken over by their watery melody. Draco could feel their webbed hands running claws underneath their board, slowly scratching. He rolled his eyes. There was once a time when they actually frightened him, now they just seemed boring. It was the same shtick every time.  


  
“They always do this,” an older student reassured a first year, their boat bobbing nearby, sounding as disinterested as Draco felt, “don’t let them scare you.”

  
Finally, after the riveting mermaid performance, the castle came into view. Its familiar towers split and protruded like spears from the main structure, its jagged outline appeared like lightning striking across the purple sky. It was as awe-inspiring as it has always ever been and a warm kindling of nostalgia lit up in Draco’s chest, its magnitude and presence could humble even the most fearsome Wizards. In the near distance there was an aura of warm yellow lights at the bank of the lake, Draco didn’t need the boat ride to come to end to know they were the same hovering oil lamps that lead the way up the terrain towards the stone path to Hogwarts. He was here, he was finally somewhere he could call home.

 

Pansy had placed her hand on his shoulder  - which snapped him from his trance - and subtly pointed out the commotion of some first or second-years nearby rocking their boat in excitement, there was a mischievous grin on her face and she was tapping her wand against her temple with a question of ‘shan’t I’ dancing in her almond coloured eyes. Draco didn’t have it in him to indulge her and shook his head. “Best not, we’re nearly there and I don’t want to be written up by Professor Snape on our first day.”

 

Seeing Pansy jinx the boat to roll top-side into the water would’ve undoubtedly been funny, hilarious even. But he was telling the truth, he couldn’t predict how the Professor would react and he didn’t exactly want to sabotage an already tense situation with avoidable shenanigans. 

 

“Spoil sport,” she said with a pout, but receded and tucked her wand back into her cloak. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He had a suspicion that he would be right.

Draco knew he needed to be careful around his Head of House. He knew he couldn’t take his opportunity for granted, that he was risking so much just to be here at school, that the man would undoubtedly be concerned. He had every right to be unimpressed with Draco.   


  
Unimpressed wasn’t exactly the word.  

Professor Snape looked absolutely furious.

There was no mistaking the white hot rage on the man’s face from Draco’s position near the end of the Slytherin’s grand dining table. It would have been funny, watching the rest of the school faculty awkwardly glance around each to avoid confronting Snape’s bullish stare, if that stare wasn’t perfectly aimed at Draco himself. Draco wasn’t even so sure if he should maintain the uncomfortable eye contact or submit in shame by looking down at his plate until the inevitable. He wasn’t sure which out of his two options would get the man to seethe less until then besides packing his things and leaving altogether like the man would have obviously wanted.

The ceremony itself had never seemed to happen so quickly like it did tonight, and the inevitable happened. There would surely be a bruise the next morning on Draco’s shoulder from where Professor Snape snatched and pulled him aside as the rest of the Slytherin students made their escape into the dungeons.

“Stupid, stupid boy.” The man muttered to himself, in a mantra, all the way to his study on the east side of the dungeons.

Draco almost tripped as he was shoved into the study. Dozens of candles hovering around the ceiling all wandlessly lit up at once revealing dull stone walls, a sizeable ebony writing desk and shelves endlessly lined with potion bottles, quills, books, and ingredients. 

Without missing a beat, the Professor caught up to Draco like a black whirlwind, towering every inch he had on him. The shadow casting into the contours of the man’s face couldn’t hide the watery shine in his angry eyes or his bared teeth. “Stupid, selfish idiot. What exactly were you trying to accomplish coming here? After what I told you! Do you hate your family?”   


  
Draco couldn’t help the small gasp. “ _No_.” 

 

“The Dark Lord won’t take much more time until he is ready to send the Death Eaters here. You now have made it perfectly clear where exactly you are, he will find you and he will kill you. Then he will kill your family once he’s read your weak, simple mind. What were you thinking? What was the point of this? What exactly was worth it?” 

“I…” Shaking hands were anxiously rubbing themselves raw behind Draco’s back. What  _was_  he thinking? Draco didn’t know anymore, he just wanted things to go back to the way they were. He wanted to be free. Some pitiful pipe dream. 

“Because of you Dumbledore felt encouraged to publish that stupid statement piece about- ” He scoffed, “ - Omegan rights. You’ve made yourself the laughing-stock of the whole pure-blooded community.”

Draco didn’t really get what was so horrible, he rather liked the idea of being treated equally and reading the newspaper that morning had been a little uplifting as well as totally terrifying.

He shook his head in defeat when he realised the man was waiting for some sort of response.

“Stupid boy,” Snape said for the umpteenth time tonight. Draco jerked in surprise from the smack upside the head, but he seemed numb to the sting of it. 

Draco still couldn’t answer him. 

“Leave. When you’re a week from your heat I will assign the elves to arrange a private room for you. Don’t be late to my class tomorrow”  


  
“Thank you, sir.”  


  
He shut the door on his way out. 

 

   


* * *

  
  
  
  
As soon as the door closed with a groan, followed by a sequence of clicks from its magically activated locking mechanism, Severus collapsed into his chair. He let his hands twist into his thick black hair and tug a little to relieve the head ache compressing at the very front of his skull. 

There was a hot sting on the palm of his hand, a constant and a painful reminder of the blood oath performed by Narcissa. A simple, easily interpreted request - Keep the boy safe. 

He retrieved a bottle of Merlot and its accompanying glass from one of the nearby cabinets with a flick of his Blackthorne wand. It rose like a feather and landed within arms reach in front of him. A drink would be very much appreciated.

_Keep him safe, what ever you do keep him safe Severus. Get him to go back. He’s better off with Sirius._

He pulled the cork off with his teeth, spitting it out at some random direction in the room, and poured himself a glass of wine. 

“It’s harder than you think, Narcissa.”

He sarcastically raised his glass in a toast before emptying it in one desperate swig.

* * *

 

 

 

Draco trekked down the west side of the dungeons until he was face-to-face with the moss covered stone wall. All he really wanted to do was get ready for bed, classes would be starting first thing and he was totally tapped of any and all energy required to deal with things. Unfortunately for him his soft, quilt covered fantasy sizzled up like water in a hot cauldron as soon as the door created an opening into the common room.

It was like a wild zoo. Every upper-year students were out of bed chatting, playing games, and quite obviously drinking.  Everywhere was buzzing with unruly chaos, but it wasn’t hard to find Pansy. His eye trained in on her in seconds, she was on one of the coffee tables by the fire place dancing in her pyjamas and socks, swinging around a litre sized bottle in hand.  

 

 The noise and music died down suddenly at his arrival, every student blinked at him to determine him a friend or foe, Draco reassured them with the one thing he knew how to do best - smirk. He then sauntered into the fray of the party like it was thrown just for him, with all the bogus confidence he could physically muster. Things picked back up and he made his way undisturbed towards the gathering by the fireplace. The music was pulsing in his ears, the source coming from an enchanted Muggle radio. There were deep green banners and silver streamers fluttering around the ceiling, one came down close enough to brush against Draco’s cheek and he swatted it away with his hand. He hadn’t spent that much time in Snape’s office so he was puzzling over how quickly his house managed to coordinate this party, another cold chill rushed through him at the reality of just how uninvolved and isolated from his friend group he had been this summer.

“How was the gargoyle?” Blaise said from his place on the sofa, he took a deep toke out of a pipe burning something mysterious, the plume of purple smoke that came from it stunk like the forest floors. Despite his hazy eyes his deep voice didn’t slur in the slightest.

“Terrible.” Draco said, he unconsciously rubbed at the nape of his neck where he’d been cuffed.

“ _Draco_!” Pansy sing-songed, she jived her hips in what her mind must have convinced herself would be sexy. Instead she looked like was riding an invisible bull, nearly slipping occasionally on the glossy wooden top. “You look so sad!”

“I am sad, Pans, make me feel better.” Draco found himself collapsing besides Blaise. He sighed but it was lost to the music and students singing along to it, there were some very strange people in Slytherin house, and it was a wonder how that managed to stay such a well kept secret for so long.  Sometimes you just had to go with the flow. 

   
“I have a special potion to cure that,” Pansy said teasingly, she held up a bottle of fire whiskey, shaking its contents. “Booze, kitten.” 

“Mmm…Booze.” Draco tipped his head back and shut his eyes. “Just what I need. Snape was a right bastard to me tonight.”

  
“Why? Surely you’d be teachers pet more than ever. Head Alpha’s favourite.” Adrian said from a nearby chair, wiping his lip free of spilt liquor.  

“I wish.” Draco couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I reckon he might like me even less than Potter.”

“Yikes,” Pansy drunkenly grimaced. 

 

“Oh, by the way, what about this… Have you seen this yet?”

It was that bloody Quibbler article. Blaise was holding it up with his free hand, smirking.

Draco was really getting sick of seeing it. 

 

“Oh, great. Just fucking perfect!” Draco burst out in laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. "What does it say then?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys are doing ok right now! keep your hands clean ✌️  
> expect the chapter after this to come out fairly soon, it's almost done just some missing bits and pieces here and there
> 
>  
> 
> thanx for reading and feedback is appreciated :') <3 i do these for fun but it's always great to improve
> 
> edit: u can tell just how lazy i got with that dragon on blaise's robes lmfao,, also help me why does my art style keep changing


	11. Chapter 11

 

**OMEGAS: THE TRUTH, THE STORY, AND THE SECRETS!**

 

_For hundreds of years, Wizards and Witches alike have tried to tame the beautiful and powerful Omegas. But in doing so has lead to their eventual dissipating numbers. In magical society today we have never been more detached from our second gender as we are now.In this week’s article of the Quibbler we will dissect exactly what it means to be an Omega - their truth, their stories… and their secrets!_

 

_An Omega’s purpose has been some ever-changing expectation. Why is it whenever someone mentions them it has to be some big ol’ statement?_

 

_Everywhere you turn there’s a new societal rule in place for them. They’re family carers or potential mates, they’re sexual deviants and succubi._

 

_Everyone seems to know an Omega before an Omega can ever really know themselves._

 

_They’re volatile. Emotional. Dainty. Meek. Sweet._

 

_But most importantly, Omegas are peacefuland tolerant by nature —_

 

 

“Move it!” Draco snapped at a small crowd of Second Years in his path, they scuttled uncoordinatedly out of his way. Pansy snickered as she stuck her tongue out at them.

  
Classes have started, and Draco was Hung Over. With a capital H and a capital O. 

 

The potion he downed this morning had been somewhat of a relief, but experiencing his first day back at school after everything was still a headache on its own.

 

He worried himself sick getting out of bed- what if feeling this rotten would make the Omega attention unbearable? But besides the few dozen glances and intentional brushings of shoulders initiated by Alphas throughout the day, Draco was managing his… condition... relatively well. Although his hand was getting a little sore from the number of times he had to crumble up little love messages, poems, and invitations to clubs or Hogsmeade. Things were no doubt going to get a lot worse after his 4th elective, Defence Against the Dark Arts, which he frustratedly remembered was shared with the Gryffindor Sixth Years and taught by Professor Snape now.

 

He slammed his book locker shut after collecting his cursed artefacts homework, beside him were Blaise and Pansy, leaning their shoulders against an adjacent locker, looking just as rough as he felt.

 

“I swear on all things good and sweet if some prick leaves me another love note or flower in here I’m going to fill it with spiders,”

 

“I think it’s cute. Besides, petal, you won’t be short on finding anyone for the Halloween ball coming up.” Pansy was curling her hair with a finger, examining the pour of students make their way to their classes before the next bell rang. “I mean…That is if darling Potter doesn’t do it.” 

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Would love to trade places if we could.”

 

Blaise looked down at Pansy - he towered her by almost a head and a half, he was already ridiculously tall and she was a little shorter than the average girl - there was a funny expression on his face… like he was constipated, or hungry, or a lot more hung over than Draco himself. “Who’re you going with Pansy?”

 

“Don’t know,” she purred, looking up at him briefly. “I’ve yet to decide.” She turned away to pull out her wand from her skirts pocket, casting a gloss charm on her enviable pouting lips.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

To Draco’s absolute horror, Snape was even crueller to Draco in front of others than he ever was in private.

 

The man took every opportunity to blatantly mock and snap out a mean remark. If it looked like Draco was distracted and lost in thought, he’d magic his class-books to the floor, ordering the boy to pick it up. Snape would ask him the harder questions that took him longer than a second to answer - _‘What are you, stupid?’ He drawled, ‘The answer was Boomslang skin.’_

 

The serious problem was this was the first time since Grimmauld Place that Draco had been in so close a proximity to Potter for longer than thirty minutes. He could smell him _everywhere._ He refused to glance at the dark haired boy, determined to pretend he wasn’t there. But it was like someone had rubbed his Alpha scent on every possible surface, it was so much it was becoming sickening. He was physically making himself ill having to inhale so much of the other boy. They were supposed to be doing observation sketches of cursed items when Snape first noticed Draco raise his head to look out the window to clear his mind, a bird was soaring past.He then kept his attention on the clock, following the progress of the second hand as it came full circle. His ink well had dried by now and his quill was sticking unpleasantly to his clammy hand, his other was drumming an incoherent rhythm with his fingertips on his knee.

 

Snape slapped at his teacher’s desk with his hand, the sound was so loud every student had snapped their head up to attention.

 

“Can’t you focus, Draco? Pity you didn’t inherit the Alpha wit I expected you to. I won’t hesitate to deduct points from Slytherin if I catch you wasting my time again with your laziness.”

  
Draco muttered out an apology and shook his head for clarity. Get it together. He cast a freshening charm on his ink pot and attempted to start the sketch.

 

He just had to wait another ten minutes.

 

But that blasted mud-blood fool just had to open her fat mouth.

 

“That’s very old-fashioned of you, sir.” Said Hermione, the Beta girl’s face was flushed hot red, she looked absolutely furious. “Omegas are no different to Alphas when it comes to the things that matter.”

  
  
Draco wanted to put his face in his hands. _Please stop talking._

 

“Hmm…Yes, and I suppose I share many similarities to a Pygmy Puff. Skin, the ability to defecate. However, still I’m not a weak, frilly, dulled creature that only cares about eating and being bred. Creatures like that belong away from schools and kept at home, nothing more than pretty, out-of-fashion pets.”

  
  
No one said a word for a long time, not even Gryffindor’s beloved social demonstrator. There was only a tense silence until the dismissal bell rang softly. Snape used the opportunity to collect his things and leave the room in one sweeping motion.

  
Draco could only stare in stunned silence, his heart was sinking so suddenly he nearly felt the urge to vomit again. Everyone gladly took the cue to take their own things and put on their robes. He stayed in his seat a few seconds longer, nodding to Pansy and Blaise and the rest of the Slytherin’s as they skulked out. Draco felt like he needed to drop his head onto his desk. Uninterrupted.

 

Lo-and-behold, however, as Harry sat down next to him where Adrian was sitting. He put his hand over Draco’s knee in what he could assume was meant to be comforting.

 

“Hey…” Harry said slowly, he was speaking too slowly. Draco wasn’t a baby, he wasn’t fragile or stupid. He wasn’t just going to go break. But… The more he was treated like he was nothing more than some delicate, unintelligent insect the harder it was for Draco to convince himself otherwise. He felt his throat shrink up, making it hard for him to breathe, let alone say any words.

 

Draco made some sort of non-committal grunt in the back of his throat, focusing on the papers he was shuffling into his book bag.

 

“I’m sorry about this. It’ll get better, you know, I promise. I’ll talk to Dumbledore about it—“

  
  
Potter’s mouth went slack as he stared down at Draco’s wand pressed bruisingly tight into the flesh of his hand, the tan skin taught and going white.

 

“Get… Your hand… Off…Me.” Draco seethed slowly, each word was an attempt to regain his composure, his hair was falling away to curtain his eyes. He took long breath through his nose. “I don’t want your help. You may have me bonded to you, but it means nothing, and it will fade away soon enough. You will not acknowledge me or speak to me, I don’t want to be reminded every time of what I did. Stay away from me.”

  
Harry snatched his hand back and furiously rubbed at the aching spot, standing as he did. Angry green eyes wait for something for a second longer, maybe for an apology, or an explanation. Fat chance.

 

Dissatisfied, Harry stormed out of the classroom.

 

Great. Just _great_.  
  
  


* * *

 

_Late Last Night_

  
  
The party had died down by now. It was just Pansy and Draco left to drunkenly cuddle on the sofa. Pansy was resting her head in Draco’s lap, who was running his fingers through her silky jet black hair to clean out the silver streamers. It was straighter than Harry’s, and not as thick. Draco realised just then that he’d never actually run his hands through Harry’s hair before.

 

“So what’s it like? A heat,” Pansy said sleepily.

 

Draco looked down at her, her breath wreaked of whiskey and her lipstick was smeared across one cheek.

 

“It’s not as sexy as the porno books make it out to be.”

 

“Did you have it with Potter?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“Do you like him?”

 

Maybe it was the alcohol muddying his brain, or maybe because it was just Pansy… But Draco couldn’t help but stare off into the warm fire and ponder the question seriously.

 

Sometimes he did, a lot of times he didn’t.  
  
If things weren’t so troubling, and difficult, and frightening… Maybe?

 

“Not in a million lifetimes.”

 

He made a note to self: Stop lying to Pansy.

 

Also stop lying to yourself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_The Next Day_

 

 

Things were still being handled by Draco relatively well, but he was not one to count his winnings too soon. He liked to gloat but he wasn’t stupid. His first class of the morning was none other than Defence against the Dark Arts. This time fortunately with the Ravenclaw Sixth Years.

  
But despite that feeble moment of peace when he saw their blue toned uniforms, Draco already had a very bad feeling for today’s class. As they all pooled into the room, his sense dread amplified when his Head of House snuck a hateful look his way . The question on his mind now was what could Snape possibly do to Draco today that was any worse than yesterday? Draco already knew: a lot. There was a lot the older Alpha could do if he wanted to scare Draco senseless. If he wanted the boy to leave there was a lot more up this sleeve he had yet try.

 

“Students,” the man droned, he was at the centre of their amphitheatre shaped classroom. His hands were clasped primly behind his back and he stood beside a large grey book cabinet. “We have acquired something rather interesting today. I’m sure all of you, as N.E.W.T level students, have at least heard of this creature before.”

 

Draco took a step back so he was visibly hidden behind the more eager Ravenclaws.

 

A girl nearby raised her hand and asked, “Is it a Boggart, sir?”

 

Everyone started to whisper. Some students sounded keen, some were worried, like Draco.

 

The Professor tapped his wand on his table and he was awarded with hushed silence.

 

“Yes, as this is your first year back and we happened to come across this infested cabinet last week, the Head Master thought who better to deal with this Dark creature than my talented students?” It seemed no matter how small Draco tried to make himself, he could make out Snape’s black eyes staring straight at him. There was a small, grim smile on his gaunt face. “Shall we proceed?”

 

The same girl lifted her hand again. “But sir, will we all try to dispel it? It’s a third year level spell…I’m sure the first few of us to try may end up killing it.”

  
  
Snape nodded. “A point to Ravenclaw. Were this a normal, weaker boggart the shock caused with your greater spell casting ability would kill it. However this one has had all summer to fester and become quite powerful. It will take a couple of tries before it is ready to be expelled from the cabinet. Who will go first?”

 

A dozen hands all launched into the air at once, some waving frantically. Draco almost let his knees bend to cut a couple of centimetres off his already smaller stature.

 

“Hmm… Perhaps Draco?” His professor said, his sinister motive as obvious as the sun in the middle of the afternoon. The man was practically toying with him.

 

His blond head poked out from the crowd and he began to make his way to the front. He could do this, he dealt with Boggarts before. No wait, his house elves dealt with them. But he’d seen some before, the Manor was too well-maintained to have Boggarts most of the time. He’d read about them, and was part of Lupin’s practical lesson.He could already anticipate what would come out from those carved wooden drawers. He knew the spell. He knew the wand work.

  
  
He walked up and pulled out his wand in one fluid motion, tip pointed down in a polite manner as he stood in front of Severus.

 

They had a stand off for a few seconds. Intense, youthful grey eyes against cold, calculating black - the unstoppable force against the immovable object.

 

 

“Proceed.” Snape stood back, hands still behind his back. He was absorbed into the small crowd.

 

Draco nodded and kept his eyes now on the grey cabinet. It shook a little as if it felt all the eyes in the room.

 

He knew who it would be. It would be the Dark Lord. He could already imagine his sallow, blue-toned skin; his piercing blood-red eyes; and his long, unnatural body. The Dark Lord was more terrifying and fearsome than any Wizard in existence.He was ready to feel the fear, and he was ready to perform the task.

 

It shook again, rumbling enough that it rocked back and forth on its four legs. The bronze hinges were rattling and the knobs were spinning off before shooting out into the crowd.Draco waited for the door to open.

 

It did, but not in the way he was expecting. Instead of bursting open with its thing of nightmares, the larger top cabinet only creaked ajar. It was painfully slow, and from where he stood Draco couldn’t see what was easing the door open.

 

When he finally could, he couldn’t get the air to fill his lungs.

 

Out from the darkness came Fenrir Greyback, not the Dark Lord. The smell of rot and pure Alpha musk creeped towards Draco from where the werewolf was standing.

 

“R…” Draco tried. He looked so real. He smelt like he was there. But of course it wasn’t him. So why couldn’t Draco move? Why couldn’t Draco _breathe_?

 

That large, toothy mouth split open. Greyback started to laugh. It rumbled and echoed in the amphitheatre.

 

Draco swallowed and tried again. “R…”

 

He was still laughing, Draco couldn’t concentrate when he was laughing so loudly.

 

Greyback took a barefoot step. And then another. Still laughing until he was close enough that Draco could feel the spittle. When close enough the Alpha quietened down and took a deep snarl of a breath.

  
  
“ _You still smell of me._ ” 

 

“I…” Draco needed to do something now.

 

“ _What’s wrong? Can’t you curse me away?_ ”

 

“…I…” He said again, just a whisper.

 

“ _Like a doll._ ”

 

“What are you doing, Draco?” Snape snapped coldly.

 

“ _Yes, what are you doing, Draco?_ ” Repeated the Boggart. The way it said his name sent a cold, blood-curdling shiver across Draco’s whole body.

 

The clack his wand made against the stone floors was like lightning on a calm night.

 

He did what he wished he could have done last time - run.

 

He didn’t give anyone a chance to stop him as he shoved past the crowd into the hallway, running as fast as his legs could carry him down the corridor, up and then down flights of stairs, he ran until every breath he could take burnt.

 

Draco wasn’t sure what floor he was on. He looked around to spot any landmark, maybe there was a ghost, or a sign, but it was just a simple lamplit corridor.

 

He took a chance and went for a door, it was an empty classroom. He took a sweeping turn and collapsed down the wall nearby the door.

 

Then he did the one thing he could finally do: curl into a ball. He sobbed into his knees, hiding his face in his arms. It was the only thing he could do that wouldn’t make things worse.

 

“Draco?”

 

How? No one had been around. How long was he followed? Draco looked up in time to see someone squat down in front of him. It was the Hufflepuff boy.

 

Oh _no_.

 

“Uh…Owen?”

 

“It’s Oliver.” The boy deadpanned, but it didn’t stop him from leaning in on his haunches to steal a wet, tear-stained kiss from the Omega.

  
Draco wasn’t prepared and sputtered, shoving the boy off of him. “Wh - No - You - You can’t do this you’ll be expelled!”

  
He had the damn audacity to shrug, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Oh well, in for a penny in for a pound.“

 

“I don’t…”

 

“It’s a muggle saying.”

 

Draco frantically attempted to edge away, but was thwarted by the unstoppable wobbling in his arms.

 

Oliver snatched at one of his forearms and forced it upwards, as Draco began to shout another hand had come and covered his mouth. Without his wand he couldn’t do a thing, with that thought settling in Draco’s whole body began to shake. New tears were welling up and running across Oliver’s hand. “I should be your mate,” Oliver said like it was law. “You need someone who can protect you. Let me do that. I want to be your Alpha. I can be a good Alpha. Your true Alpha - ” Draco bit him, a humble attempt at resistance. Oliver snarled and cast a quick binding charm that forced Draco to seal his own mouth closed with his two hands. He was then pushed to the ground, on his back with his hands remained glued to his face, as if he was trying to keep a secret. Oliver didn’t waste any time trying to yank Draco’s uniform trousers past his thighs. Draco was going to be sick. _Not again. Please not again. Oliver’s hands curled around the roundness of his exposed inner thigh, peeling it apart from the other with practiced ease. I can’t do this again No No No No NO_ -

  
\- it came like an explosion, the magic everyone was warning him about. It erupted around him in a flurry of bright colourful lights, resembling an aggressive and ever moving Aurora Borealis. Despite his lack of wand, hands, and strength, Draco’s magic burst out of him with enough power to sound like a miniature bomb, propelling the 80 kilo Alpha across the room.

 

The crack his skull made against the stone wall would’ve been sickening, if it didn’t immediately fill Draco with relief. But it was short lived when the Alpha growled out in pain, rubbing at the spot with his eyes closed. Through Draco’s burry, teary-eyed vision he could make out the large palm shine red with fresh blood. There was a constant roar that wouldn’t stop in Draco’s ears, as if the magic itself was alive, like it was some pulsing amalgamation of himself. He could picture tendrils of it spiralling up his arm, around his neck, down his legs, around his ankles. It was too hot and felt like an electric current running everywhere. The sound was so loud in his own head he couldn’t make out Oliver biting out a threat and coming back to his feet, the white shirt collar of his uniform was soaked through with the blood, it ran in a network of lines down the sides of his thick neck. His body was enormous, what he matched Weasley for in height he won out with width. His shoulders bulged in his cloak, like it was a size too small for him. He also had a baby face - a furious and spoilt baby’s face.

 

The Alpha took another step forward and Draco attempted to inch away, preparing himself to unleash another whip of magic.. however he did it.

  
“What in Morgana’s good grace is going on? What are you boys doing?” It was McGonagall. She had shoved the door into the spare classroom open, rushing in. Somehow Draco’s magic could sense the cavalry coming to save him and slowly retreated; the colour, the sparks, and miraculous, inexplicable physical warping of magic all came back to soak into his shivering, sweaty skin.

 

Draco let his head fall against the cold floor, allowing himself to feel drained and limp as his transfiguration professor undid the bond keeping his hands glued to his face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_That Evening_

 

  
“Students, members of the faculty. I’m aware of the rumours that have started to spin and would rather explain the situation myself. Oliver Claudwell has acted in interest against Hogwarts and is hereby expelled.No details will be shared. I will remind all students to remain civil, any harm caused to another student is to be met with immediate expulsion, no negotiation necessary.”  
  


Dumbledore’s voice boomed with the _Sonorus_ charm, it echoed, and then was soon followed with silence.

 

Then came the wind of whispers.

 

_He's crazy. What a whore. So sad._

 

Draco could feel two hundred eyes cast to him at once. He sat still with an impassive look on his face, revealing nothing. From where he sat he could see Hufflepuff and Gryffndor’s table be home to a lovely range of expressions – anger, suspicion, fear of the unknown.  
  
Draco shut his eyes and let the world fall away beneath him; when he finally opened them again, the world rushed back in nauseatingly. He thought back to what had happened - wasn’t bonding to Potter meant to keep his magic under control. Was this just going to get worse? He stole a glance towards the Gryffindor table, and sure enough Potter was sitting on the opposite side which meant he could easily stare across the dining hall at Draco. The blush that filled Draco’s cheeks was unavoidable. Shame, embarrassment, anger, they all churned inside him fighting for dominance.  
  
Maybe it might be time to take up Luna’s offer of advise? Or maybe he could buy one of those stinky necklaces?

  
  
Finally convincing himself that staring at Potter’s table for too long was looking weird, Draco shook his head and turned away.

 

Dumbledore concluded with a few unrelated announcements about the student council looking for volunteers to help with the Halloween ball preparations, something about class times changing, a thank you to the house elves’ hard work. He gave a sweeping gesture to the four tables and hundreds of plates of food appeared out of nothing.

 

He poked around at the Brussels sprouts he randomly picked for himself, rolling them in golden gravy. To be honest he wasn’t really hungry. He couldn't taste a thing knowing everyone was gossiping about what had happened today. He was either a rape victim or he was asking for it. His gender made people's opinion of it complicated because it was technically what he was made for. He wished people just didn't have an opinion of it at all. He wished everyone would just shut up. 

 

“Let me try it off your plate first, Blaise!” Whined Pansy. She was leaning forward over her end of the table, mouth wide open for a forkful of Blaise’s breaded patty.

  
  
“Just get your own? There’s dozens.”

  
  
“But what if I don’t like it?”

 

Moments like this was why Draco absolutely loved his friends and his house. His image was their image. No one mentioned his psychotic breakdown with the Boggart, they never brought up Snape's obvious abuse. They'd talk about his troubles with him only if he decided they could. Slytherin unity at its finest. It may not have been the healthiest way to cope but Draco suited well for it.

 

Unfortunately for Blaise and Pansy, Draco could only be bothered to listen to their pointless conversation long enough for the first few students to finish up. He greedily watched them leave their tables and cruise for the door. All Draco wanted to do was sit by himself in the dark for the rest of the night.“I’ll catch you guys later, I’m going back to the common room.” 

 

He didn’t wait for anyone to respond, only pushed out of his seat without a second to spare. Out of the corner of his eye Draco could see Potter had unmistakably done the same and split from his friends to weave his way to the grand doors.

 

“Hey,” Potter said when he was close enough, attempting to sound nonchalant. “How’re you?”

 

“Why do you care?”

 

“I don’t,” he lied.

 

“Then why did you ask?” Draco graced him with a quick glance over his shoulder.

  
  
“Coz it was the nice thing to do, Jesus - why do you have to make everything so complicated.Everything’s like some bloody soap opera with you.” His Alpha temper was rising and he rubbed his black hair in frustration.

  
  
“Then why can’t you just fuck off?” Draco spat, spinning around and shoving him roughly at the shoulders, the force of it had the taller boy skidding back a couple of inches, nearly slipping and falling in the crowded entry hall. _Good, let him get mad._

 

“Why can’t you just be grateful for my help?” Potter snarled, in seconds his hands came up to grab Draco by the wrists, squeezing so tight the sensation of blood pumping was overwhelming in Draco’s reddening hands.

 

“Thank you, oh sweet and kind Alpha master. What ever would I do without _YOU!_ ” Draco suddenly shouts and slammed his forehead into Potter’s nose. Deja Vu was unshakable as the other boy screamed a manic, pained howl. Harry gripped his nose with one hand while he held up another towards Weasley, who appeared out of nowhere and had his wand pointed directly at Draco, the tip glowing yellow.

 

_Calm down, Draco. Don’t do anything hasty._

 

_Be clever._

 

_Just turn around and go back to your bed. Don’t exacerbate this._

 

_…_

 

_.._

 

_._

 

_“It’s a Muggle sport.”_

_“For what purpose?”_

_“To be strong, I suppose? To fight properly.”_

 

_What idiot doesn’t fight with his wand? Barbaric._

 

_Fuck it._

 

Draco slowly gripped his fists, ignoring the wand he got back from Severus in his back pocket. He reimagined the stance Sirius performed that night, and on the many other sleepless nights when Draco would steal fleeting glances of him boxing. Bastard never shut the door.Draco took a deep breath and swept his left foot forward, angling the tip of his toe away slightly. Both fists raised at his cheekbones.

 

_Sirius took his stance and suddenly launched a combo of powerful and fast jabs at the sack. The sound of it being struck rang louder in the room and it waved back and forth after Sirius lowered his fists. He looked back at Draco, panting slightly._

 

Funny enough Draco realised Harry and Sirius both looked a little similar sometimes.

  
Potter’s face was lighting up with realisation, finding this funny - like it was some kind of inside joke - and broke into a smile. “Where’d you learn that - “

 

 _Thud_.

  
  
The momentum of force it took Draco to swing his entire body into that punch had him skipping a couple steps forward before he regained his balance. Potter had flown down the hall and divided the newly gathered crowd cleanly in two.

 

A couple of students screamed in horror when Potter lifted his head off the ground - his nose was a little swollen and blood had gushed down over his lips and chin. He looked like an absolute mess with his stunned face and crooked glasses.

 

Before someone could rush in fast enough to grab a hold of Draco he was running forward, delighting in getting in a couple more punches. Potter gifted him the time to land four before he was holding Draco’s thinner forearms with his hands. The Omega wasn’t prepared for the jolt that came when his Alpha tugged him forward with a knee to his gut, he was launched upwards and flipped before crashing down onto the stone floors. Draco’s head was absolutely spinning. He couldn’t tell who’s voice was coming from who. So many people were screaming and shouting at him or for someone - or maybe they were trying to cast a spell. Possibly he was hexed? Everything just hurt so damn much.

 

He could only focus his blurring eyes enough to see Potter drag himself off the ground to stalk towards him, not wasting a single moment by throwing a solid punch across Draco’s cheekbone. Draco took the painful jab as an opportunity to grab at the bigger boy’s elbow, pulling him forward to land his fifth and final punch. Draco felt his face grow sorer and found it harder and harder to see what exactly he was hitting. His knuckles stung, assuming he burst the skin.He might have heard Pansy scream ‘Get him, Draco!’

 

Harry quickly managed enough of a grip then on Draco to wrestle his back to the floor completely. He settled on top of him, holding both his two squirming wrists in his own much larger hand.

 

Draco didn’t like this at all. Not after everything. He wasn’t breathing anymore, only shuddering out a couple desperate gasps. He couldn’t hide and he couldn’t run away, he was trapped and bleeding and angry and surrounded by hundreds of people.This needed to stop right now or he was going to explode. That unstoppable sensation of magic was making its appearance and was rippling through him like an oncoming wave, like it was sending a warning. Like it was asking Draco if it could emerge.

 

But then it vanished.

 

A hand was curling around the side of Draco’s neck, where he burned his hottest, and just stayed still. Draco’s body seized up for the strangle or slap or punch that never came. Potter’s finger tips were just… gently pressing into his skin. It miraculously stopped the flood of power. Draco was somehow capable of breathing again, they were shallow shaky breaths and yet they filled his lungs anyway. Where had he learn to do  _that_. Potter’s green eyes were just staring wildly down at him, like a tiger staring down deer.

 

Draco’s Omega body had submitted in seconds. Potter’s snarling mouth was moving, but Draco couldn’t hear and he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of reading his lips. He felt powerless, but he wasn’t going to let Potter know that.

 

“Fuuuck you,” Draco found himself gurgling, it didn’t sound like his voice. “You punch like you have…No hands. Cock-scar.”

 

That’ll do it. Darkness was swimming around the edges of his vision, all he could see now was Potter still staring down at him.

 

Potter’s stunned face started to move. It was doing something.

 

He was laughing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They were both in Dumbledore’s office.

 

The two of them had been quickly healed but their clothes weren’t cleaned, they both had caking patches of blood lining their shirts collars.

 

Neither of them were offered a lemon drop.

 

“I cannot believe the both of you. This behaviour…” Their Headmaster squeezed the bridge of his thin crooked nose. “This was unacceptable. Especially after I had warned the school tonight. Harry…” His tone was fierce. “You needed to prove to me that this could have worked. I needed to trust you and you let me down.”

 

Harry was gutted. He looked completely ashamed of himself, like a kicked dog. The reprimanding from his hero clearly world shattering to some degree.

 

“You can never let this happen again.”

 

Draco was sitting there smugly, served him right for not leaving him alone.

  
“And Draco,” Dumbledore said gravely, turning to him. The effect that grandfatherly frown had on a person was bizarre because Draco was suddenly feeling the shame that Potter must have been feeling.“I have told you that I understand your troubles, and that adjusting will be hard. But this didn’t give you the right - _at all -_ to ever lay your hand on another student. You yourself would understand that no matter who you are… Omega, Alpha, or Beta, does not give anyone the freedom to inflict violence on another Wizard or Witch. You’ve embarrassed me and this whole school.”

  
When was Draco ever going to stop embarrassing people?

 

He wrongfully convinced himself that their punishment was over, and began to stand. Dumbledore put his hand up as an order to remain seated.

 

“I’ve decided that it would be good for the both of you to make up and start fresh your relationship. How does organising the Halloween ball together sound? Each Friday night you will fulfil your detention by assisting the student council with preparations. This means decorations, organising entertainment, food planning.It’s vitally important that it runs successfully. This is our opportunity to put the students minds at ease even just for a single evening. With everything that has happened we owe it to the children of Hogwarts. You both know more than anyone that Voldemort -“ He ignored Draco’s wince “ - looms nearer. His plot will be complete any month now. We need peace in this school more than ever.”

 

Draco’s white skin couldn’t get any paler.

 

“But… But can’t I just clean? Something? Anything?” He pleaded.

 

Draco already had so much to worry about, the last thing he wanted to deal with was the Halloween ball. His heat was coming in three weeks, his Head of House hated his guts, his Alpha was an oaf, and he had to worry about the impending day his Dark Lord sent his evil hoard to Hogwarts to kill and enslave everyone. 

 

 Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. This was clearly non-negotiable.

 

The two boys could only share a heated glance at each other, both their mouths twisted into an uneasy frown.

 

A truce wouldn’t be likely any time soon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Later That Night

 

In the centre of the room, Draco lay in his bead, his breathing quiet. It wasn’t too late into the evening that everyone needed to sleep yet, the rest of the boys were still up playing Wizard’s chess in the common room. Blaise waited a second to see if Draco would notice him, but with his pheromone suppressants it seemed like the Alpha was an invisible man to the Omega’s mental eye. Slowly, he walked forward and reached the side of the bed, pressing the fronts of his thighs into the emerald mattress enough to rile the blond into cracking an eye open.

 

“What is it?” Draco said suspiciously. You could see the exhaustion and curiosity swimming in his eyes, the left eye was still slightly reddened, it was taking longer to recover even after Madam Pomfrey’s help.

 

“I wanted to make an offer.”

 

“…Offer?” Draco sat up at that, not hiding his pained wince as he did.

 

“Yes…” Blaise sat down at the foot of the bed, respectfully keeping his distance but maintaining his intense eye contact. Their silhouettes were lit by the glow of the lake coming through the windows, beside them kelp brushed against the glass and a school of fish hurried past. He wanted to make this meeting quick. “I think it would be beneficial for the both of us if you were to bond to me instead of Potter.”

 

Draco stiffened, his face was angry. “Why?” 

 

There was a slight breeze rustling the sheer bed curtains around them, it came from the draft wafting through the dungeon tunnels. Blaise convinced himself that it caused the shiver that ran down his spine and not from the terror of Draco’s quiet rage.

 

“Well, think about it rationally, Draco. Pure-blooded couple. It’s traditional. Our families have history and it’ll be a hell of a lot more palatable for everyone. I doubt anyone would see us having a bloody brawl in the middle of the dining hall. Besides you know the media will talk. They don’t know who you’ve bonded to yet but it won’t be long till someone comes around to ask.”

 

“Why do _you_ want it, Blaise?”

  
  
Blaise couldn’t help the smile. “Why would an Alpha like me want to be bonded to a powerful and influential Omega like yourself?”

 

Draco wasn’t buying it. His eyes narrowed.

  
  
“Yeah. You haven’t once shown interest and It’s not like you’ve stopped using suppressants so I know it’s not my allure that’s brought you here to my bed with no one else around.”

 

At that Blaise’s dark eyes glanced back to check the door.

 

“To be honest? I’m not all that into Omegas. No offence, you’re lovely. I just can’t really stand the smell for too long, I don’t like losing control.”

 

Draco nodded like he understood.

 

Blaise continued, “I mean, you haven’t bonded completely, have you? People can smell it, even I can. That’s why it’s so easy for people to hit on you like they have all day. You and Potter didn’t do it right.”

 

Draco sputtered and his face flushed red in the pale-green light. “Merlin have people always wanted to talk about my sex life like this or is this just a new thing I somehow missed?”

 

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Get over yourself. I’m right, aren’t I? You must not have actually been in heat when you did it, we can wait for when it comes around again. We do it once and you can enjoy a more tolerable mateship with someone you can stand to be in a room with for more than five minutes, plus if it’s alright with you I’d prefer to see other people after it’s done.”

  
“What aren’t you telling me?” Draco frowned.

 

“Between you and I? Mother would love it. If she found out I had a thing for Betas I’d probably lose the inheritance to my last three fathers.”

 

Draco stared at him for what felt like a very long time, Blaise carefully kept an ear out for intruders to give the other boy time to think. He didn’t understand the wait, he felt like he had surely explained things clearly enough for the other Slytherin, it was an undeniable win for everyone. Blaise wasn’t prepared for the puff of a laugh, and despite a shadow hiding most of the blond’s face you couldn’t mistake the smirk. “So who would you choose to be with if not with little me? I don’t suppose you have a thing for Pansy, do you?”

 

Blaise gave a frustrated sniff and stood away from the bed. He ran out of time, the rest of the boys would start to wonder where he’d gone.

 

“The offer’s there… Just think about it. Okay?”

 

  
Draco nodded with a sarcastic smile before pulling the curtain all the way around his twin sized bed with one quick jerk, ending their conversation.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised! a follow up chapter shortly after! i'll be adding drawings in for these last two chapters soon (just coming up with scenes id like to redraw so if you have suggestions i'll hear em out ;) ) 
> 
> hope the writing is coherent enough! just trying to give you the feel of the book while also being as fanficy as possible 
> 
> also i looked it up they apparently have lockers in hogwarts so thats super cute
> 
> can you also tell by now my favourite thing to write is draco running away from his problems?


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

_The Next Day, Morning_

 

“Mr. Malfoy, stay behind.” Severus called out, as the flood of Gryffindor and Slytherin students bottlenecked the only door in the classroom.

 

“…Yes, sir.” He responded defeatedly.

 

Potter dragged his feet as he walked to the door, clearly delaying himself to eavesdrop. 

 

Severus only watched him go, their eyes met and it was the first real antagonising moment between them since returning to Hogwarts.

 

“Any longer, Potter, and you may stay behind to hand-pick the toenails off chopped oger's feet, I just had a new bag recently purchased,” Snape snapped, and the shaggy, tall boy picked up the pace until he was out of sight, shutting the door in his wake.

 

The older man turned away to looking a few inches down at were the Malfoy boy stood.

 

“I have to hand it to you, you are one stubborn child.”

 

“…Thank you?”

 

The man couldn’t help the snort that escaped him at that.

 

“What exactly happened, yesterday? Minerva said she heard an explosion. You didn’t have your wand so what did he do to you?”

 

Draco rubbed at his arm and licked a stripe along the swell of his lower lip. Severus’s nostril twitched at the rising smell of salty-sweet sweat.

 

“He didn’t… have anything to do with that.” Draco admitted. He cast his silver eyes down at his petite, pale hands, turning them back and forth distractedly. Severus could easily imagine the inner conflict his pretty blond head was brewing - debating over how honest he should be, if he was to tell the truth would Snape use this as his opportunity to remove Draco from school. It would practically be giving him the win. Would lying even work? It’s not as if Draco never lied to the man before, but Snape was like a bloodhound, and any slip up was a drop of blood in the grass. There have been many lies Draco has told Severus that were shortly after found out about.

 

Snape had his arms crossed and he was tapping his fingers to his bicep, waiting for an actual answer. His black brow quirked.

 

“Well…” Draco stalled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “It came from me.”

 

Snape leaned back a little bit, observing him down the length of his nose very carefully. He didn’t say a word, so Draco assumed he had to keep talking.

 

“I can’t really explain how… But I lost control of my magic, without a wand or a spell in mind, it just came out of me.”

 

“Can you show me?” Snape asked him, taking a step closer. His eyes were running over every centimetre of the boy.

 

“…No.” Draco said, looking down. He then blinked up quickly. “It’s not that I don’t want to - I - you see I can’t -“

 

Severus held up his fingers to signal silence, his arms still crossed. 

 

“I know. You’re experiencing effects of the partial-bonding. You sticking to Potter only weakened the Fenrir’s imprint, but you haven’t solved your problem. You are a cocktail of ensnared magical energies.” His voice dropped lower. “Like you’re swollen from it, ready to burst at the seams.”

  
“So I’ve been told,” said Draco vaguely. “What are you going to tell me I should do?”

  
Severus scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, please. If it were up to me you would have been on the next train back to Grimmauld Place, as your Mother wanted.”

 

Draco looked as if a thought crossed his mind and he frowned.

 

“Did she have you promise her?” Those pale eyes slipped down to Severus’s hidden palms. Severus could imagine what he must be thinking: a blood pact.

 

Severus took, impossibly, another step. He was too close now, by this point he could taste the proximity: a mouth-watering honey.Draco parted his lips to let out a gasp of surprise - from what, exactly, Severus couldn’t tell. The closeness? The oath? Perhaps both.

 

“Aren’t you clever.” He jeered, revealing his right hand. Along the palm lines stood out a pink wand induced scar.

 

“Did she specifically ask you to keep me at Black’s family house?” Draco urged.

 

The older man narrowed his eyes, his lip curling tightly with displeasure. He didn’t like being interrogated.

 

“No,” he said. “She didn’t.”

 

Draco’s eyes were so large and round, it was a little hypnotic at times if you let yourself fall for their charm.The silver colour seemed to endlessly sparkle, placed underneath the candle lit ceiling of the classroom.

 

“I promised I would keep you safe.”

 

The boy looked encouraged. Which was the last thing Severus wanted. 

 

That same stubborn strand of blond hair swung into view again. Before the boy could reach up and sweep it away, Severus did it for him. 

 

“Wh-“ 

 

Severus cleared his throat, interrupting him. 

 

“What makes you think Dumbledore will agree with you now, surely you don’t think he will let you stay?”

  
  
“Please don’t tell him…”

  
  
He scoffed again.

  
  
“Fool,what I know Dumbledore would have already figured out. Although, tell me, what was is it like? This ancient so-called Omegan power.” He made a swishy gesture with his fingers, giving his words a sarcastic flair.“It was once something fearsome.”

 

Draco scowled up at him, offended, clearly Severus had pinched a nerve. “I cracked open a boy’s head without touching him.”

 

Well then.

 

“And what was it like?” He asked again, seriously.

 

Draco squirmed a little, Severus hadn’t let up once and the heat of their chests nearly touching must be getting to the boy. “I dunno’…? Weird? How would you explain breathing to someone who’s only heard it for the first time?”

 

Severus leant in, close enough that Draco felt pressured enough to take a few steps back, until his lower back touched the corner of Severus’ teaching desk. 

 

 

Severus loomed before him, at his full height.

 

 

“You don’t… you only show them.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Harry had waited, leaning on the lockers nearby the class door.

 

He really shouldn’t be waiting, his nose was pulsing painfully as if it was trying to communicate and warn him to stay the hell away. He was caught off guard by Draco putting up his orthodox fighting stance. That fire in his eyes was mesmerising, you couldn’t really look away even if you tried. Even thinking about it now, Harry couldn’t help the goofy grin blossom on his face. He almost let out a breathy chuckle but decided against it when he looked up to notice passing students still occasionally making their way through the corridor.

 

He had to give it to Draco, though, the punch was spot on. It was as if he’d been keeping a good eye on Sirius with his punching bag for a while - or did Sirius give him private lessons?

 

Harry squeezed his bicep tightly, keeping his arms crossed.How much time did Sirius really spend with Draco? 

  
  
The corridor filled with the smell of honey, and Harry had to swallow a couple of times to clear away the water in his mouth.

 

The pale skinned, blond haired cherub was gliding down the hallway, having just come out from Snape’s N.E.W.T level classroom.

 

Draco must of had a lot on his mind to keep his head down like that, not registering he had just walked past his Alpha. He stunk of Snape - which got his blood boiling - and he had to remind himself to wipe away the sneer on his lip before he could call out:

 

“Hey!”

 

He kicked off from his rest on a row of lockers, cruising quickly up to the smaller boy.

 

“You waited for me?” Malfoy said in surprise, whipping around, his expression open, honest, and very confused.

 

“Well, yeah?” Harry said casually, like it wasn’t a big deal, which it wasn’t. He wanted to make sure the blond saw through that extra ordeal with Snape relatively well enough, it was hard to explain but seeing Draco’s suffering created a sense of solidarity and unity in Harry. Draco seemed more relatable, like he could actually be a friend. Like it wasn’t so crazy what Harry wanted to ask him…

 

“I mean, I wanted to ask you - “

 

“How did you do that?” Draco interrupted. He had his hands on his hips and was staring up at Harry expectantly.

 

“I - er - I’m not quite so sure…” Harry let out. He felt so stupid, why was speaking suddenly so difficult.

 

“Oh Merlin, how did you know what to do!” He barked, he gestured to the side of his blushing neck. Harry stared at it for a few seconds until he understood, but he might have stared a second longer than he should have because Draco was now covering it with a hand and glowering off to the side in embarrassment. “Ooh… Funny thing about that. I didn’t know it would work. It was in that thing that Luna wrote. The Gibbler?”

  
  
“Quibbler,” Draco groaned, rubbing the obvious headache out of his eyes with his free fingers. “I never finished reading it. I was too pissed and can’t remember what even half of it said.”  
  


“You got pissed? Is that what I smelt off you in Snape’s first class?” Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Draco Bloody Malfoy, pissed on his first day of the semester? He didn’t know him as well as he thought. _Father’s perfect straight O student._  
  


“You can smell when I’ve been drinking?” Draco said horrified.

  
Harry shrugged, now the one to look embarrassed. “Well… Yeah? I can smell everything off you? What you’ve eaten, who you’ve spoken to…”  
  


Maybe Harry needed to stop talking, because the look on Draco’s face was not quite so encouraging.

 

He needed to back track now.

 

“But it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything, I mean I’m sure you can smell what I’ve been up to? Right? Surely.”  
  


“No! Oh my god! Potter, I can’t! And I try to avoid - ark - _smelling_ you if I can.”  
  


“Wow… I sound like a right old creep right now, don’t I?” Harry said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. He nervously tugged at the longer strands of black hair that tangled at the back of his neck. It’s not like he could help it…

 

“Yes, now do me a favour and hold your breath whenever we’re in the same room. Hopefully next time I see you you’ve died.”The Omega swung around and hurried off, making his escape around the corner and out of view.

 

“See you Friday…” Harry said pathetically after him, but it was too late.

 

Frustrated, he gripped a fist and slammed a punch into a nearby locker - the smooth cold metal shuddered at the impact. Fuck, did he feel stupid.

 

  
“Damnit!”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Yesterday, Great Hall_

 

 

_An Omega’s neck is a complex universe of sensitive nerves and glands, wrapping around and interwoven deep within the muscle and bones…_

 

_Little research has been done, but from what is currently known an Omega has two primary glands on either side of their neck, to produce their scent, and two primary nerves aligning the glands, this protects the neck from any harmful disturbance._

 

_Once, during a heat, I swatted a fly that had landed there, I was on the floor rolling for the rest of the day—_

 

—Harry pulled away after reading a couple of sentences, he’d mistakenly picked a random paragraph to start from. This was from the magazine Luna personally handed to him on the train ( _“I think it would be good for you,” she said wistfully._ ) He couldn’t help the blush forming on his face... The article seemed a little shameless. Luna was a very, very -  _honest_   -  person - and Harry could only imagine how Draco would react if he actually bothered to read this.

 

Harry looked up to monitor across the room at the mention of his name;the Omega was staring down at his plate, his snow white hair stood out like a beacon against all the black, brown, and deep green that surrounded him. Even from one end of the Great Hall Harry could make out that sweet blush marbling his pale skin - it was no mistaking it, since the whole hall was buzzing with gossip about Head Master Dumbledore’s announcement. Although, it was a little hard to tell but it seemed the Slytherin table was solemnly quiet about the whole ordeal.

 

“You’re absolutely mad, Harry. I don’t know why you’re still doing this to yourself. Why bother caring at all?” Ron elbowed him in the ribs sharply, his staring couldn’t have been that obvious, could it? Ron thankfully kept his voice low enough for just his and Hermione’s ears. She nodded to signal she was paying attention, but her eyes didn’t skip a beat scanning the lines of text in her book.

 

“You’ve helped him get here, why worry more?” She added.

 

Harry was scowling, not liking the feeling of being ganged up on like this. “Maybe I should ask him to the ball?”

 

“Oh my god,” Ron quietly groaned, shaking his head in his hands. “You... take Malfoy to a ball. I’m too young to be rolling in my grave, mate.”

 

“Are you sure he would even say yes?” Hermione gently pushed.

 

“Dunno. That’s the plan I guess.”

 

Seamus stuffed a sausage into his mouth, his cheeks bulged as he loudly spoke: “S’have you lot heard what happened then? Colin’s brother Dennis found out from Hufflepuff that Malfoy hooked up with some poor Fifth Year. Poor kid got expelled just coz the slut couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

  
  
“Jesus,” said Dean, shovelling down spoonfuls of baked beans. “Nasty trollop.”

 

The other boy struggled to swallow as he continued. “Not even the worst part. He nearly killed him with a curse once he was done with him. If you ask me I dunno’ why the pompous bastard gets to stay and that Hufflepuff kid gets the boot.”

 

Lavender Brown poked her head down the table, who’d clearly been eavesdropping. “Did you hear that he had some freak out in one of Professor Snape’s classes too? He’s crazy.”

  
  
Harry ducked lower in his chair. Maybe talking about asking out the most hated boy in school to the dance wasn’t the wisest thing right now.

 

Ron was smirking like he’d won.

 

Speaking of the most hated boy in school, Draco suddenly stood, he rose like a king. Harry looked up to the enormous white faced clock above the doors - it was barely 10 minutes into dinner.

 

Now was his chance. He took a breath and slowly started to rise, intending to follow. “I’ll see you guys later…”

 

“Harry, wait!” Ron shouted after him, realising where he was going.

 

“No, Harry… Don’t!” Cried Hermione, finally shutting her book and putting it down beside her plate.

 

“Where’s he going?” Asked Seamus, confused.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Present, Late Evening_

 

 

Dumbledore was sitting in his study, staring into his shimmering reflection inside the pensive.

 

He had just finished witnessing a memory - a painful memory from a long time ago. With his wand he scooped the silver strands out of the cauldron and into a glass vial, storing it away only to be seen again in another few years at least.

 

It was the memory of his sister the night she died.

 

 

 

_They were having another argument, one of many. She wanted to leave, she had been begging and pleading for the last few days. Please, please, please, Albus. I have to. I can’t do this anymore, she would say. Finally, after what he decided was enough, he dropped the quill he was using to write his school lectures.He launched himself out of the wooden chair, swinging around and gripping at her arm - he intended to make it painful. He snarled in her face. She needed to be kept safe, why couldn’t she see that? Why was she making this so much harder? Why couldn’t she act like Omegas were supposed to? He was trying to find a life partner for her, she had to give him time. He knew it wasn’t what she wanted, but it was what he had been told all his life she needed._

 

_She shoved him off and screamed._

 

_“I hate you! I hate you so much!”_

 

_“Why can’t you understand that I’ve been doing this all for your own good?”_

 

_“No! You haven’t! You have no idea what you’re doing and you’re doing what you always have done - you’re pushing me away, like all the problems in your life! You push them away until they’re not your problem anymo -“_

 

_She stopped and gasped, and suddenly gripped at her belly in pain._

 

_“Ariana?”_

 

_She screamed again, this time louder and even more incoherent._

 

_Albus was pushed away by the blast that came from her. He couldn’t see exactly what happened, blinded momentarily by the lights and the colours swirling around the room._

 

_Once the dust settled, and he was able to push himself off the ground, could he finally see the carnage. It was a gruesome death that took out half their ancestral home, leaving what used to stand around them only smouldering mounds of rubble._

 

_She had burst into pieces, parts of her lay strewn everywhere on the charred wooden floor._

 

 

 

Albus let out a pained sigh, casting away the vial to its place on a shelf.

  
And then, as if on cue, as it landed, all the perfectly lined bottles started to shake. Albus lurched forward to save the few that knocked over, freezing them with a quick spell before they could have the chance to roll away and shatter. The stained windows overseeing the school grounds were not so lucky, and burst into a colourful, fine dust.

 

It came from outside, some kind of explosion.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Hogwarts grounds were alive with night-time activity, insects chirped and rodents rustled amongst the dying autumn leaves. Summer was finally releasing its hold, taking with it its warm nights and sweet smells.

 

Draco stood on a rock at the lakes shore, the stones beneath his bare feet were slimy with moss and algae. He welcomed the soft salty breeze that rustled his hair and clothes.

 

He needed somewhere to breathe. He was sick of listening to his House pretend not to gossip about him - he knew they couldn’t help it, if this nightmare weren’t happening to him he would’ve talked till the cows came home. He was panting after a session of riding on his broom. It wasn’t necessarily hard to sneak out if you paid attention to Filch’s schedule. He wasn’t worried about getting caught anyway, he didn’t care, there was just too much pent up energy he couldn’t shake off, it made it difficult to sleep, and flying always seemed to help. He looked up at the starry sky he’d just descended down from, despite the realism of the Great Hall’s enchanted ceiling, it never could perfectly capture the sense of awe one felt just staring into the vast wonders of the truly unknown.  
  
He looked back down at himself, at his hands. He needed an explanation. He needed answers. How was he able to perform such intense magic without a spell in mind, let alone a wand in hand.

 

He shut his eyes and concentrated. He thought about the feeling of it oozing out of his skin, the weight of the magic in his hands. The memories he called to mind blinked one by one- they were all the memories that caused Draco the most suffering, which fuelled his supernatural power.

 

The first murder he ever saw. _Thud._

 

His mother and father saying goodbye. _I love you, my son._

 

A sharp, panting mouth in his face. Clawed fingers running up his neck. _No, please. Not like this!_

 

Sirius snarling in his face. _You can’t just fuck whoever you please because you want to._

 

The Hufflepuff boy tearing down his pants. _I can’t do this again No No No No NO._

 

The longer he stood there thinking, the more the magic rumbled in his ears, like it was yawning and waking up, ready to destroy everything in its path. It had no outlet, no reason to be channeled, it was an unleashed, unstoppable -

 

 

It started with a bright ball of light being made within the cup of his hands. He couldn’t believe it. But then it started to grow, uncontrollable, the wind around him howled and his sleeping clothes flapped in the wind. 

 

It roared around him and Draco was frightened someone was going to come running out any moment, surely someone could hear this…

 

And then that orb of twitching, colourful energy around him detonated, taking out with it 1/3 of the bank. The area around him became highly-pressurised, resulting in a wave from the blast shattering every window in the castle up the hill. _Oh shit_. Draco looked down to see he was standing on the last remaining rock around, the rest of the area around him in a 100 metre radius had reduced into a smoking black desert.He frantically looked down at himself, patting down any where he could think of in case his shell-shocked brain failed to realise he was missing a limb… Not a scratch on him. His hands were sweating and shaking, and his clothes were dusty from the debris, but he was unharmed.

 

“Oh Merlin…”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg!!! i cant believe it! another chapter! although this ones a littttle shorter.
> 
> as you guys can see i'm really trying darndest to stick to this crazy ass plot - wish me luck!


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

 

Draco didn’t know what he should do. He took a tentative step out of his ring of untouched stones. As soon as his toes came into contact with the blackened ground he had to whip the foot back - the sound of skin sizzling was indication enough to say it was way too hot.

 

“Ouch!” He yelped. He looked around for his shoes or his broom but they had all disintegrated in the blast.

 

All there was left to do was wait - he seemed to be in too much shock to reach for his wand in his back pocket - either until the ground cooled off enough to walk barefooted on, or until the castle realised what had happened and its inhabitants swarmed the scene.

 

That didn’t take look long, because Draco could make out the tips of lit wands making their way over the hill.

 

Even in the dim midnight light, he could distinguish the silhouettes of Headmaster Dumbledore, Filch, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and the oaf of a groundskeeper Hagrid along the perimeter of the destruction. Draco couldn’t really make out their faces but he could easily toss a guess to say they were perplexed. _Join the club._

 

“Mr. Malfoy!” Cried McGonagall, wand to her throat. The Sonorus charm boomed her call to him and he tentatively lifted a hand to say he was alive.

 

Draco couldn’t imagine the next chance he would be getting from his Headmaster now.

 

He shuddered at the thought of spending the rest of his two years being homeschooled by the Alpha Sirius and his house elf Kreacher.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The walk back to the castle was a shameful one, he was in a shock blanket conjured up by Snape. It was bright orange and felt like a target on his back.

 

Hagrid had offered to carry him but Draco nipped that suggestion in the bud effectively - by barking harshly. “I can _walk._ ” The half-giant merely raised his enormous hands in surrender and stood back as a peace offering.

 

From above Draco could see the dozens of curious heads poking out from the shattered windows to see what had happened below. It would be a miracle if the Headmaster could explain how an area mass the size of a small Quidditch pitch was burnt to cinders without mentioning Draco. Perhaps they could say a dragon flew over and sneezed?

  
  
He wondered if Potter was one of those nosey bastards out of bed, he wouldn’t be surprised. He probably knew it was Draco’s humiliating march (more like stumble) with the teachers up the stone steps with the use of his stalker’s map.

 

Luckily Draco didn’t have to walk far, and he was escorted to Beta Madam Pomfrey in the medical ward for the second time in two days. She rolled her eyes and rushed him to a bed to take his stats - he stuck his tongue out as instructed for her wand to inspect his temperature and he coughed as she stethascope’d his back.

 

“He’s fine,” she declared after her tests. “Just needs a fresh change of clothes and some shoes.”

  
“That’s good to hear. Do you mind giving us a moment, then, Poppy?”

  
  
“Of course not, Albus.” She shot Draco a cynical look but gathered her things and left to one of the nearby in-care hospital wings.

 

“You two as well…” The old Alpha turned to the two Betas, McGonagal and Hagrid. McGonagal looked a little stung. “I have a few things to ask Mr. Malfoy in private and he may only need his Head of House present.”

 

They left without a fuss, and now Draco felt the weight of consequences settle over him.

  
  
“Before you ask, I didn’t do it on purpose…Not really.” Draco couldn’t help saying in self defence.

 

There was a small, humourless smile on Dumbledore’s bearded face.

 

“Could you tell me what happened?” He was awfully gentle, taking a seat at the foot of the medical cot that Draco was now tucked into. Draco’s eyes cast to Snape who stood by the entrance - his presence like a dark, intimidating shadow. 

 

“I‘d gone outside to think. I wanted to know how I’d done... y’know. What I did. What’s happening to me?” He was twisting the itchy blankets in his hands.

 

“What happened?” The old Alpha scent was like a calming elixir, coercing Draco’s tense muscles to unwind a couple of notches. 

 

“I thought about how much I’ve been hurting…” It was now more like a truth serum. “I’ve just been so confused. And angry. And…” He couldn’t stop the watering in his eyes, and his hands couldn’t reach his tear line fast enough before the first couple of drops slipped over his cheeks. “I haven’t been happy in weeks. Everything keeps getting worse and now I find out I’m some bloody atomic bomb!”

  
  
He was really crying now - his body uncontrollably shuddered at each sob.

 

“Now, now, my dear boy, please.” Dumbledore seemed alarmed - his white eyebrows shot into his hair line, nearly under his lopsided nightcap. “You’re not in trouble. I’m very happy to see that you’re safe, I’m only trying to find answers. You said you were thinking, and then it just happened? Was there a trigger at all? Were you trying to call for the magic?”  
  


Draco weakly nodded, sniffling. He was.

 

“So you did this on purpose!” Snape shouted, stepping forward from his resting point.

 

“ _Stand back_ , Severus,” Dumbledore rumbled slowly, not looking at other Alpha.

 

Snape paused, snarled, and then leant back far enough that he was once again leaning against the open door.

 

“Why?” The old man urged. He conjured a napkin for the Omega who took it gratefully.

 

“Because I want to control it. I don’t want to be afraid of my magic, that’s not what you taught me.” His eyes were glowing silver-gold in the candle light. “That’s not what my house or this school has taught me.”

  
Dumbledore said nothing so Draco continued:

 

“I don’t want to be kept in a cage just because people don’t understand me. Ever since I presented people have either been afraid for me or of me. No one seems to give me a straight answer about why I can’t control my magic. All people tell me to do is bond! Bond to Potter! Bond, bond, _bond_! Has no one ever stopped to think of just how _daunting_ that is? Fuck!” The tears had dried and he was getting angry now. “I think I understand why I have to, and why it’s important. But I need _time._ I want to try to see if I can handle this problem on my own, at least. I need to believe it’s possible. You’re a damned teacher! Teach me!”

 

He was panting, the two Alphas could only gawk in stunned silence.

 

The answer that finally came had Draco’s head spin, and he leant back into the pillows.

 

‘You have my word, we will teach you.”

 

He was going to stay.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It had been three more days since Draco’s accident. The windows replaced and the area destroyed was perfectly resurrected with the help of Professor Sprout’s specialised biota magic. Dumbledore hadn’t spoken to him since then, only promising to get back to him with a plan, all that he asked of Draco was he keep out of trouble. Easier said than done, but he so far was doing alright. Snape had been treating him civilly, but it wasn’t perfect - he couldn’t seem to help the little jabs still or saving all the harder questions for Draco rather than usual students he didn’t like that day.

 

It was now Friday; the days had progressed easily enough for Draco. He knew he was martyred, but he wasn’t exactly bullied either. His house made sure he wasn’t, and Draco was already perfectly fine at holding up against his own. Their help was nice but it wasn’t like he needed it most of the time. Most people weren’t exactly witty enough to last long as the opposition in a game of insults against him, and least everyone forget that he was one of the most magically gifted students in Hogwarts. He was fine. He shook off the doubt and continued his trek up the stoney stairs that led from the dungeons.

 

He was supposed to be meeting Potter on the third floor, a median in the castle between Slytherin house and Gryffindor house. All their classes for the day were over, but he was still in his uniform - it was so Filch knew they would be going to a school organised activity, and not shirking off somewhere they shouldn’t be. It was a shame because he was hoping to get a glimpse of those muggle jeans again, they intrigued him - I mean, how can something so restricting and uncomfortable to the touch really be comfortable? Why did they make… arses look so good.

 

He shook his head. _Get it together, fool._

 

Potter’s long legs could be seen descending the staircase from one of the towers, and when he reached the landing the boy smiled brightly at Draco. This was the first time - since the moment in the hallway after Snape’s class three days ago - that they’d spoken. Potter had kept his word, he stayed away. He kept his head low every time Draco walked past. Whenever Potter got a chance to he’d turn the other way and march down a different direction, which wasn’t really necessary. It actually irritated Draco, and it was irritating Draco the more he wondered why.

 

“Hiya,” Potter said nonchalantly, he was rocking back on his scuffed school shoes, hands stuffed deep into his trouser pockets.

 

“Hi.” Draco greeted back.

  
They stood there quietly for an unbearable amount of time.

 

“Can I ask what really happened?” Potter finally said, he was gazing down at Draco with his bright green eyes.

 

Draco visibly hesitated.

 

Dumbledore had told the teachers to inform the students that… a dragon had flown by and sneezed over the castle.

 

“I’m assuming you saw that I was down there?” His Alpha nodded. That damned map. 

 

Draco dragged out a sigh.

 

“I lost control of my magic. Just exploded. Nothing really happened and Dumbledore’s working on teaching me how to control it.”

  
  
“Why couldn’t you tell me that? I feel like that’s something I should be told about.”

  
  
“Why? I don’t think so,” Draco tilted his head and quirked a brow, feigning innocence.

  
  
“C’mon, Malfoy. That’s not fair. It’s a big deal and it pisses me off how you don’t want any help when I’m practically offering it on my damn knees!” The Alpha was shouting now.

 

“You’re not my fucking hero!” Draco raised his voice to match.

 

Harry lifted his hand suddenly to swipe at his black hair, combing it back in frustration.

 

Draco flinched like he was prepared to be struck.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Harry said angrily. Draco shrunk in shame, only realising himself what he had done. “Fuck…It’s 1997, Draco. I’m not gonna bloody hit you like some — Crack-pot abusive husband.”

 

“It’s been a hard couple of months.” Draco explained, staring off into the distance.

 

“Well…Come on then.” The fight in him had died. “Dumbledore said they’d be meeting on the ground floor. It’s a classroom near the Great Hall. I think it’s usually used for herbalogist theory…”

 

 

 

  
They walk down the series of steps in silence, until they reach the classroom. It’s filled with light-coloured wooden desks, their legs had spiralling plants on them. All around the room hung different types of potted plants and pots, Draco had never seen so manyin his life -clay pots, silver, bronze, linen-bags.

 

The room was filled with vivid orange light from the setting sun, a view of it sliding behind the Scottish hills could be seen from the large castle windows.

 

“Wow,” Harry said beside him.

 

“Wow indeed.” Draco couldn’t help saying. It was a little much - we get it, it’s a herbologist’s classroom.

 

There were four other students there, Draco and Potter seemed to be the only Sixth Years - student council must not be very popular.

 

Draco was part of it last year, being a prefect. Along with the mud-blood Granger. He rarely went to the meetings when it wasn’t compulsory. He wasn’t offered the perfect position again this year, he hadn’t questioned it. He probably didn’t need the extra stress. These kids weren’t prefects anyway.

 

“Oh, Harry Potter!” A Ravenclaw girl sitting on a desk gasped, she jumped off and brushed her grey pleated skirt down. “Head Master said you’d be joining us, we weren’t so sure what time - I was a little shy to ask. So nice to meet you.” She rushed up to him. She seemed younger than them, maybe by a year or two. Her hair was like spun gold and tied back in a loose ponytail. She had a light dusting of freckles around the centre of her face, it acted like a spider’s web, ensaring you to gaze fixedly on a pair of deep blue eyes. She seemed very naturally pretty.

 

“Oh, hi. Yeah.” Harry shook her outstretched hand and paused a little for a second, surprised. His mouth hung open before he blinked back to reality and let go of her hand. He stood back and pushed Draco forward by the small of his back. “Have you met Mal - Draco?”

 

Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips disapprovingly. “I’ve heard of him. Hello.”

 

Draco humm’d at her in acknowledgment.

 

She turned back to Harry with a sweet smile, and swept her pony tail onto a shoulder.

 

“I’m Livia. Livia Madley. Maybe you might know Laura? Sisters. I’m also classmates with Dennis Creevey.”

  
  
“Not really, Liv.” Harry said, looking around the room, there was a tense strain in his jaw. Draco followed his line of sight and they were then introduced to another Ravenclaw Beta girl called Eleanor, a Hufflepuff Beta boy called Augustus, and a Gryffindor Fourth Year Alpha Harry seemed to recognise.

 

“Oh hi, Romilda. I didn’t know you were in the club.”

  
  
“Yeah I don’t talk about it much,” she said, chewing on a lump of Drooble’s blowing gum - once in a while blowing up bright-pink, watermelon sized bubbles. She had wavy brown hair with mascara’d eyes that could possibly rival Pansy’s. 

 

No Slytherins, Draco mentally rolled his eyes. Typical. What a waste of talent, for what? Draco would never understand the unpopularity his house suffered out of the four. All his life he was told Slytherin house was home to the greatest Wizard’s of our time, and yet here they were, not welcome to join a damned school club. His father blamed the Muggles assimilating into Wizarding lives - _’They will take our culture from us. They will have everyone turn on the loyal families.’_

 

Maybe the Slytherins could make their own student council? Served by Slytherins for Slytherins only? Draco smirked at the idea. They could have club themed uniforms, with a stylish robe lapel pin - perhaps snakes in silver over Hogwarts? With gems. Lots of gems. There would be a secret password and they’d hold all their meetings in the prefects bath house -

 

“Draco?” Potter nudged him, waiting for his answer.

 

“Sorry, what?” Draco blinked, trying to back-peddle on the conversation he had only been half-listening to.

 

Potter rolled his eyes. “Pay attention, will you? How much did you hear?”

  
  
“Uh, something about the theme…?”

 

“No,” said the blonde Ravenclaw girl, exasperated as if Draco was some child. He narrowed his eyes dangerously at her. “If you had been listening we were assigning duties. We’ll work in pairs to finish the duties quickly. You’ll be with Harry working on decorations, I’ll be with Eleanor on catering. Augustus and Romilda are on entertainment. We’ll meet up Fridays to discuss our progress but I hope you can find the time to do additional work on your part-“

 

“Not a chance,” Draco said flatly.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me. I was told Friday’s only for this pointless punishment.” Draco crossed his arms and jut a hip out.

 

“Unbelievable! You’re so rude -“

 

  
“Hey - “ Potter started, putting a hand up.

 

“No, no - “ Draco said, taking a step forward, puffing his chest out and pointing his nose up indignantly “ - don’t stop on my account. Go on, kitten, you’ve been hissing since I got here, you have something to say? Then say it. I don’t play these games.”

 

Her brows knit together and she pouted hard.

 

And then, it dawned on Draco, this girl was an Omega. He could smell her now the more agitated she got. She must have been on pheromone suppressants for a very long time for Draco to be so heedless of it. Potter’s weird behaviour was starting to make sense, and he looked up at the taller boy to find him looking rigid and nervous. How many were there really in this school? Including himself, so far there were three, out of nearly 300 students.

  
Did Dumbledore do this on purpose?

  
  
Draco wished he could have just been assigned to cleaning duties.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Narcissa was sitting in the Manor’s dinner room, now used to serve as her Dark Lord’s war room.

 

Nearly two months had gone by since she last saw her beloved son. She couldn’t even write letters to him in case they got intercepted by a subservient Death Eater.

 

She imagined what he might have said, if things were normal. If he had presented as an Alpha like he was supposed to. Or even as a Betan child. ‘Mother classes are a bore.’ ‘Mother, you would never believe what Potter and his mindless goons said to me this time.’

 

Severus could only tell her so much without compromising her position, the Dark Lord regularly would slip into her mind during meetings, turning over any memory and unchecked thought, prowling for evidence.

 

She met with the other Alpha the night before the semester would start, she was already planning to have Severus swear his loyalty to her son regardless. The original plan was to Mark him as a Death Eater, later he would be the set in motion to their plan to infiltrate the castle. To kill Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and all traitors. She would have had the man help Draco in his mission any way he could, but now it was to just save him, any way he could. She knew he had to be away from the school, the days passing meant the Dark Lord was ever nearer to unleashing his expanding army. Greyback had recovered and was retrieved from prison by Yaxley, who were both now sitting in her chairs in front of her, eating the food lain out by her house elves. The wolfish man noticed her looking at him and gave a wide, sharp smile.

 

 

She quickly looked away.Draco needed to be hidden away from the inevitable carnage, it wasn’t too late yet. Severus just had to push him _harder_. He was safest with Sirius, inside his untraceable home. She gripped at the skirts of her deep blue robes and pinched her lips unhappily, why did Draco have to be so difficult? It’d been a week and from what little she could gather from Severus, she knew her boy was refusing to budge.

 

She silenced her bubbling thoughts when the unmistakable black mist formed at the head of the table, all nearby light was sucked into it, and it grew until the Dark Lord’s translucent face emerged. His hands creeped out from the darkness to lay flat on top of the grand table. The darkness receded into his animated black robes, the torn pieces seeming to flap even without the presence of wind.

 

“Unfortunately, Severus could not attend.” He said quietly. “But our access point is nearly complete. Dumbledore expects nothing, as does the _Chosen One_.”

 

Lucius coughed besides her and Narcissa looked to see her husband preparing to speak.

 

“My Lord,” he started, bowing his head solemnly, “what of the _traitor_?”

 

Narcissa gripped her skirts so tightly she might have stretched the expensive fabric. In translation: What did the Dark Lord know of Draco?

 

“Ah…He is still on the grounds. He seems to have convinced himself imperceptible.”

  
The table of Death Eaters began to laugh as the Dark Lord’s lipless mouth stretched, resembling a smile.

 

“Fenrir, do you believe you have what it takes this time?” The silence came back with a hush.

 

A couple of moments passed.

 

“Yes…” He finally growled, he shifted sorely in his seat, wincing against the obvious bandages lining his upper body. He was only wearing a loose, exposing black shirt and dirty, blood stained jeans. His clothes always seemed to have blood on them, Narcissa never could find out who’s.

 

“Very well. Do not disappoint me again.”

  
  
“Of course…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit im on a roll!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> gasp! another omega ! i wanted to have someone in the younger years but i didnt want them to be in gryffindor (cough ginny sorry...) 
> 
> laura madley is a legit character but lucia isnt lol. i hope y'all can appreciate that i try to keep as many original chara mentions as possible 
> 
> I think i might draw fenrir next for this chap. movie version is fugly as and i love me some bad boy wolf people
> 
> edit: i did it and now appreciate the *smoulder*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song lyrics in the beginning credits: [Shadowshow - iamwhoiam](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyZU9ptzy68) a huge inspo for my writing!

 

_I am fire, I am damage in the making_

_I am an army set out to control your every ticking_

_I am a giant stepping on the tiny world you live in_

 

_And you shake and you shiver_

_As the roof is coming down_

_And the walls grow thinner_

 

_Shadowshow darkens the river_

_Turn hearts into stone_

_We run, we run terrified, what have we done?_

_Is this how it goes?_

_Silence grows loudly, bigger_

_Its heartrending crow_

_You run, you run terrified, what have you done?_

_Is this how it goes? (Let the shadows swallow all)_

_It's how it goes_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Its dark, but Draco can still make out the throng of ancient black trees surrounding him - the details in their ageing trunks and dying leaves are illuminated by the silver full-moon.

 

A lone wolf cries out in the distance, the sound of it seems to be coming closer as each second passes. Draco attempts to run, but the trees give up no clearing, they were planted so close together that even his hand couldn’t slip through, he was trapped.

 

The wolf - enormous, scarred, and greying - approaches him, it merely phases through the wall of trees like a ghost.

 

Draco has no magic here, he has no voice. He has nothing, and can only throw his arm up to avoid the teeth snapping at his face.

 

It sinks its teeth to the bone and, with one whip of its head, tears Draco’s arm off at the elbow.

 

The pain is otherworldly, but he still can’t scream. The blood spurts across the black soil.

 

The wolf rises onto its hind legs, its mouth open and panting, thick strands of saliva and blood were webbing from tooth to tooth.

 

“Draco…” It says in a strange, growling voice. It was so familiar.

 

 

  
“Draco!” Draco was shaken awake at the shoulder by Blaise and Adrian.

 

“Wh-huh.” Draco managed out.

 

“Get up, you lazy queen. We’re going out.” Blaise ordered, throwing Draco a pair of lightweight white robes.

 

Draco caught it with his left hand, the hand that was only moments ago in his dreams torn to a bloody stump.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was finally the weekend. The Slytherins had been planning to try the new ‘iced coffee’ trend at Madam Puddifoot’s, it was all people in Hogsmeade were talking about according to Pansy, and - after everything that’s happened this week - Draco felt like he deserved the break.

 

Those left in his group - Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Adrian Pucey, Pike Gorgon, Graham Montague, and Marcus Flint - were surrounding Draco as they travelled out of the castle, they were all dressed in pale-coloured, lightweight summer robes. Despite being a half-bonded, pheromone dripping Omega, none of the Alphas in his house dared lay a hand on him. Save for the occasional teasing. There couldn’t be one thing alone attributed to it, as Slytherins were renowned for many things - their unbreakable centuries-long unity, their deep respect of power, and their complex understanding of traditionalism - just to name a few.  
  
Although Vincent, Greg, Millicent, and Theodore never did turn up this semester. Draco wasn’t so sure if he’d ever see them again. Draco wasn’t sure if Headmaster Dumbledore ever expected the record number of Slytherin student pull-outs after his Daily Prophet statement; even a few pureblooded families with children in other houses were holding the attendance of their children hostage. One thing Draco knew more than anyone was how rooted into their beliefs conservative families could be. More than _anyone_. His parents were willing to ship him away to avoid being murdered by their beloved Dark Lord, instead of just running away with him, the three of them together. Draco couldn’t even picture a reality where his family give up their lives and political power - as one of the most elite and prestigious pure-blooded Wizards in the United Kingdom - just to save him. They loved him, but they could never love him _that_ much.

 

They walk out to the courtyard. It was a warm and sunny day, sometime after 9. Now that he was 17 he didn’t need parent permission to leave the grounds, which wouldn’t have been possible if he presented a year before. He counted his blessings. The whole school was buzzing with activity, everyone wanted to soak up as much of the summer sun in Scotland before winter took its place. Kids were whizzing around on their school brooms, some practiced magic or read books in the open fields.

 

But before they could make it onto the covered bridge between the castle grounds and the station town, Pansy was nudging Draco hard in the side. She was looking elsewhere, Draco had to follow her line of sight to see what was getting her so thrilled.

 

It was Luna.

  
  
She was sitting by herself under a tree - she was talking to herself. She had on a big pair of orange, sun-shaped glasses and she was wearing a metal contraption on top of her head, it looked like a collage of muggle devises glued together and stacked into a pyramid-shaped hat.

 

Draco just really wanted this coffee.

 

He didn’t get the chance to herd everyone into a different direction because Pike deviated and made his approach, yanking her glasses right off her face.

 

He put them on and was exaggeratedly swaggering around for an applause from the group, which he got, save from Draco. “Hey check me out in these!”

 

“Those are mine!” Luna gasped, struggling to get up from her spot on the floor. She must have been there for a while because she wobbled and had to catch herself with her hands on the grass a couple of times before she could stand. “Give those back, I need those to see the Warblers.”

 

“Warblers?” Pansy shrieked with delight, looking around with her hands cupping her eyes, like a pair of imaginary binoculars. “Where?”

 

“They’re everywhere, but you need to know how to look.” Luna said desperately, it was like she could tell she was being made fun of but couldn’t help herself by endeavouring to enlighten others. She cast her bright blue eyes to Draco, searching for sanctuary. Draco averted his gaze.

 

“Pah - she absolutely wreaks.” Said Blaise, covering his nose with a hand.

  
  
“You absolute psycho, Lovegood.” Marcus barked, laughing.

 

“I’m not - “ She tried again.

 

“Ah, ah. For all intents and purposes, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck then it’s a duck.” He snatched the glasses off Pike’s face, who let out a displeased mewl at his lost prize, and threw them to the ground - Marcus stomped the pointy, bright orange plastic frames into the grass and soil, crushing them into little broken pieces.

 

Luna just gaped in shock.

 

“Okay - we need to go…” Draco tried again to salvage the situation.

  
  
“What are you talking about, babe? We’re in no rush.” Pansy said, smiling. They had been friends long enough for the blond to know the black-bobbed bitch was toying with him. There was always a condition to his unconditional love for her, like this condition right now. He moaned internally - _couldn’t you just think about someone other than yourself for a hot second, Pans?_

 

“Yeah, you’ve stopped being fun, Draco.” Adrian said dubiously.

 

Ah.

 

He glowered daggers at Adrian.

  
Without diverging his heated stare, Draco whipped out his wand and wordlessly shot a fire ball at the remaining shards of Luna’s glasses on the floor, burning them in a surge of heat until they couldn’t be recognised, let alone magically repaired. The smell of hot plastic filled his nose and mouth. 

 

“Happy? Let’s get out of here, I’m bored of this.”

 

This time they did leave, and Draco could see over his shoulder Luna attempting to pick up the smouldering black lumps out of the grass, piece by piece.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Sunday rolled over. 

 

Draco couldn’t get what happened out of his head. It was eating at him from the inside, like there were maggots under his skin, wiggling and burrowing until the could burst out to the surface. He needed to find Luna, to say something. He had to apologise, he didn’t think he could live through another guilt-ridden, sleepless night.

 

Luna was in the year below him, so they didn’t share any classes together. They didn’t have any mutual friends, as far as Draco knew she didn’t have any friends at all. Even her own house couldn’t stand her. This would have been so much easier if she was just a little more normal, but life for Draco didn’t seem to work that way anymore, nothing could just be ‘easier’.

 

  
He took a calming breath through his nose and watched himself in the grimy mirror, rust stains were peppered over his reflection.

 

“Oh Draco…Why haven’t you come and visited me all week? I’ve been so _lonely_.”Moaned Myrtle, hovering around the ceiling. The ghost was filling the loo with a soft, eery weep - Draco rolled his eyes, he could see right through her, both literally and figuratively. 

 

Draco also didn’t have an answer for her. He’d been coming to the girl’s abandoned second floor bathroom since Second Year - whenever he had to think, to cry, to vent. So it only made sense that he would come here, and yet, he hadn’t.

 

“I have to ask you something, Myrtle… Have you seen Luna Lovegood today? Does she come here at all? Would you know where she normally goes?”

 

“Ohhh… The crazy girl.” Myrtle cackled, she instantly stopped crying and pool dived down towards the ground and through the floor,reemerging out of a toilet.

  
  
Draco ran his hands through his hair. Maybe this was why he didn’t visit, he was getting too old for her bullshit.

 

“Yes, whatever. Can you tell me anything or am I wasting my time?” If this didn’t work out he fortunately had another plan in his cards, but he’d rather the ghost tell him now so he didn’t have to spend much longer in this dirty, abandoned bathroom than he had to.

 

“Maybe…Maybe. But you have to give me something in return. Something I would _want_.” She snapped her teeth with a click.She was still in the toilet, she was absently fingering a stain out of the bowl.

 

Draco leaned back on the rim of the sink, it groaned a little at the weight. “What?”

 

She giggled.

  
“You have to visit me every day to make up for all the times you haven’t seen me. She’s very tricky to look for when you actually want to find her. The harder you look the more she disappears…”

 

Draco huffed a laugh and pushed himself to stand, prepared to leave.

 

“Too bad, Myrtle. I’ll see you around.”

  
  
He ignored the high-pitched cries and pleads of the dead-girl as he pushed open the door into the abandoned hallway -

 

\- Well, usually abandoned.

 

“-Oof!” Cried Draco as he bumped roughly into a warm, solid chest.

 

Potter’s scent filled his nose in under a second. Wood. Ink. Sweat. The smell of his cotton red t-shirt. The denim of his jeans. The lavender shampoo he must have used this morning, it was so fresh.

 

“Oh - Shit - “ Potter wheezed, putting a hand on Draco’s shoulder to stabilise the both of them.

 

“What are you doing…“ Draco started, but he let his words trail off as his attention centred in on the folded up map in his Alpha’s hand. “…Ah.”

 

“I wanted to talk to you.” Harry said rather firmly, he recovered instantly. His eyebrows knit together and his glasses were sliding down his nose.

 

“Perfect, so did I.” Without warning Draco grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and dragged him along the corridor. The taller boy weakly argued and half-walked-half-stumbled after the abrasive Omega. The entirety of the floor felt un-intruded,even the paintings were somewhere else - everyone must have been enjoying the remainder of the Sunday afternoon outside. 

 

Draco pulled him into a room just before a bend. Even if they were alone he didn’t want to risk the chance of someone walking in on their conversation, at least with a locked door he could control the ears in the room.

 

“Woah… What’s this about?” Potter’s face was flushed red and his eyes look brighter despite the low-lit classroom.

 

Draco held up a slender hand, palm up. “I need your map. I’d like to find a particular person.”

 

Potter looked disappointed and Draco wasn’t sure why. Wasn’t he relieved that Draco didn’t want to hex him into furniture?But the gloom in his expression cleared away fairly quickly, now displaying the second of Draco’s least favourite Potter expressions next to disappointment: suspicion.

 

“Why?”

 

The Slytherin was hoping the Gryffindor boy wouldn’t ask, but it wasn’t like he was surprised either.

 

“If you really must ask - "

  
  
“ - Which I do - “ The Alpha interrupted.

 

“ - I need it to find Lovegood. I needed to… ask her something.” _If she would forgive me._

 

 _“_ Ask her what?” His eyes narrowed.

 

“You don’t need to know that much, Potter. It’s private.” Draco tried to stand a little taller, his chin could just barely rest on the other’s shoulder if he wanted to - which he didn’t.

 

Potter took a lungful of air then blew it out to the ceiling before looking back down at Draco.

 

“Okay. On the condition you be my date to the ball. I wanted to do something nice together for once, and maybe… show you off?” Potter was rubbing his neck, it was a wonder how the damned thing wasn’t rubbed raw by now.

 

“Wow, really?” Draco asked in disbelief. It was one thing to want to be fucked, but to be proudly displayed? He felt blood fill his cheeks.

 

“Well…Yeah? I fucked your brains out, mate, least I can do is take you out to a dance.” Draco punched him in the arm ( - Merlin, it was so _hard_ -) at that, but you couldn’t mistake the small smile on his face.

 

They both started to laugh.

 

Satisfied, the taller boy opened the map and offered the blank, yellowing parchment up to Draco. “Do you remember?”

  
  
Draco did, he dug his fingers into his robe’s inside pocket for his wand. Once out, he rested the tip of it against crumpled page. “I solemnly swear… That I am up to no good.” 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short chapter this time but i think it was important as a stand alone
> 
> i wonder how much of the end game you guys can already predict? ;) i think i've just about figured out how i want things to end and this will probably be dragged out to a 20-25 page fic (was originally meant to be a 12 pager!!) 
> 
> also i hope u can tell when i try to b funny... im trying 🥺
> 
> ALSO please don't be afraid to say that draco and the gang are straight up BULLIES!!! because they are. they're little shits in the books. that's why i loved them. i was hoping they would get the character development they so sorely deserved but nope... guess it's my job!
> 
> pikes a real dude - but he's from the movies - so i thought hell with it and chucked him in too.. i needed more cast members while also pulling out quite a few lol!!! and let's all just pretend marcus is in draco's year. i was running out of people hahahah


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

 

Potter somehow convinced Draco that he needed to tag along in order to track down Luna.

 

On the map her little black dot could be found moving around in the Owlery.Draco rarely went up there, he was a little grossed out by the site of dried up rodent bones and owl shit on the straw covered ground. Potter didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, as if he’d been up to visit hundreds of times.

 

At least it wasn’t as cold as he remembered, possibly because it was in the middle of the afternoon, even if it was only the end of summer. Draco had to fight the urge to raise a hand to cover his nose, as the warm air intensified the smell, and instead distracted himself by calling out for the other Omega.

  
“Luna!” Draco tried, looking around. There were at least twenty owls in the open room, all cooing and staring at him with wide, curious eyes.

 

She didn’t respond, but she couldn’t hide for long, and Draco found her ducked down nearby an owl’s perch - she had on a cloud-patterned pale blue dress and was sitting on her backpack, there was a book in her hand. A textbook. 

 

“Are you… studying here? Why wouldn’t you just go to the library?” Draco didn’t want to kneel down in case his knees came into contact with any droppings, his robes cost his parents at least 500 Galleons a pop. 

 

“Oh…” She looked frightened and shut it, “I’m sorry… I can go somewhere else.”

  
“No, no, Merlin. I didn’t mean it like that.” Draco put his hand out to stop her from climbing to her feet. He felt awful. “Just wait, please.”

  
  
“Hi Luna,” Potter smiled - Luna seemed happy to see him and smiled back at his chiseled face.

 

“Oh, Harry! I’ve missed you. How’d you find the Quibbler I gave you?”

 

Draco placed a palm over his face and sighed.

 

“Oh - heh - yeah, good. Fine. Thanks. It was different.” Potter mumbled out bashfully.

  
“I only ask because it seems to have been helpful,” she looked back-and-forth between the two of them.

 

“No! No, Luna - “ Draco shouldered Potter aside so he could stand directly in front of her “ - I needed to apologise for what happened with Flint. It was…” He struggled for the words, he didn’t really know how to apologise, he just needed this feeling to go away. “…Cruel. Whatever I owe you for the glasses I’ll double it. Triple.”

 

“Oh…No. Thank you, but it was the only one of its kind.” Her voice was very delicate.

 

 _Damn_. Draco dropped down onto his toes, so he could study her sad eyes. “Please, can I make it up to you some other way then?”

 

Her big blue eyes blinked. “Alright… Could you help me hand out my the next copy of the Quibbler, it’s coming out Tuesday. I wouldn’t normally ask but it’s just been so popular.”

 

You could almost hear the creak Draco’s stiff lips made as he attempted to smile.

 

“Okay, Luna.”

 

Although, you could definitely hear Potter’s low cackling.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Next Day_

 

 

“The problem is very simple.” Snape declared finally, after two hours of exploring Draco’s mind with impunity. Draco didn’t believe the man needed to stay in there for as long as he was, and mutely grumbled his displeasure as he rubbed his eyes to relieve the new headache forming.

 

Most of Monday was a blur for Draco, classes went and gone. He couldn’t remember anything eventful happening in 4th Elective with Snape, besides the man stopping him after class again, but this time to only send a quick message. _‘See me in my study tonight after dinner, Headmaster wishes for me to investigate your mind.’_

 

Draco didn’t really get much say in the matter.

 

Snape had used Legilimency on him to find two particular memories: the one of Draco and the Hufflepuff Alpha during Snape’s Class (which Draco very much hesitated to show until Snape had to forcibly wrench the memory from his mental hands) and his midnight flying by the lake.

 

“What is it?” Draco had to ask, since Snape was now looking at him expectantly.

 

“There is evidence that both moments are related,” the older man said, pleased with the prompt. He sat down in his office chair, leaning back. “If you remember, you brought about this lack of control with your heightened emotions. You felt frightened and helpless with your rapist - “ Draco flinched at the brash phrasing “ - and then you felt depressed when you obsessively thought about everything that could make yourself feel worse. Omegas are emotional creatures, boy, your emotions greatly affect your scent and the way your magic behaves. Try and think about something else.”

 

“I don’t know what else to think about…” Draco said helplessly.

 

“You’re a _Slytherin_ for God’s sake. Think about your power. Think about your control. Think about your influence on others.” 

 

And so Draco did. He shut his eyes and opened his clenched fists, palms out. Before his damned birthday, he was on top, not because of some meaningless second gender, but because of his wit and drive. 

 

He felt a vibration start in between his hands, but wouldn’t open his eyes yet. 

 

He had to have faith in his abilities, not feed off the memories his mind constantly conjured up to torment him.

 

Draco could make out a light burning brightly in front of him through his sealed eyes. He still didn’t open them, not sure if he was ready to release what he couldn’t explain. If Professor Snape was talking, Draco couldn’t hear, because there was that ever-familiar roar, like wind shooting out of the opening of an active volcano.

 

He finally forced his eyes to open, only after he started to feel the fronts of his robes rustle from the miniature storm inside Snape’s study.

 

Colour. It was everywhere, bright and moving. It danced in a glowing amalgamation of shapes and sizes all around them. As if the ball of energy in Draco’s hands was a small stained-glass ball, and it contained the smallest sun in existence.

 

“Okay…Draco… Stop this now.” Snape attempted to say calmly, leaning back into the chair as far as he could, obviously nervous. This wasn’t meant to be a practical exercise.

 

Draco looked down, and willed it to stop.

 

It didn’t.

 

Please. Stop.

 

If possible, the light shone even brighter.

 

“Draco!” Snape shouted, now panicked.

 

Draco forced with all his might to seal his hands together, to snuff out the ball. The will of power it took sent waves of agonising muscle spasms up his forearms and into his shoulders, but with a final shout he was able to kill it. The wind stopped. The light disappeared, and they were momentarily shrouded in darkness until Snape’s candles re-lit themselves magically.

 

“Enough for tonight,” Snape managed out, breathlessly. “Go to bed.”

 

Draco didn’t need to be told twice, still a little bit in shock himself, and whirled around out the door.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Next Day, Tuesday_

 

 

 

 

Like Monday, Tuesday’s classes were a blur. The only note worthy thing was how tense the usual banter during breakfast and lunch with the Slytherins felt, as if they hadn’t really recovered from the Luna incident on Saturday.

  
  
The blond Omega herself dumped a tall stack of tabloid issues into Draco’s unsuspecting arms as soon as he met up at their agreed spot, on the fifth floor just outside Ravenclaw common room after their last class.

 

“That’s exactly 100 copies,” informed Luna, instead of a hello. Beside her feet stood a similar stack, possibly another 100 Quibbler copies. Luna wasn’t asking for any money from these, despite all the hard work she put into them, she seemed excited enough just by getting the story out there.

  
  
“We’ll split up, okay? That way we’ll cover more ground.” She said cheerily.

 

“Um… Okay, if you’re sure,” Draco wasn’t totally comfortable with the idea, not liking the odds of her bumping into someone who wanted to give her trouble. But he couldn’t really stop her, and she was right, they would cover more ground this way. He didn’t want to spend all night doing handouts with the girl. “Once I’m done I just head off then?”

  
  
“Yes, so I’ll say goodbye to you now. Thanks for your help.” She leant in and kissed him on the cheek.

  
  
Draco felt his chest squeeze in an unusual way. He gave her a nudge will this elbow amicably. “Anytime, doll.”

 

 

 

 

 

To his horror, in ten minutes, Draco had only managed to hand out five. He was forced to already reposition down a floor since most people upstairs disappeared at the site of him. Luna never explained what he was meant to do with the extra when he decided to call it a day, did she honestly believe he could hand out every last copy before midnight? He never thought to ask how long exactly it took handing out the Quibbler by herself.

 

He should have taken Potter’s help when he offered it.

 

“Draco? What are you doing, darling?” That was Pansy’s voice, she prowled from out of the shadows, hands behind her back. One of her dark eyebrows was quirked up questioningly. “I was on my way to the kitchens. Did you want to come with and sneak some food to bring back to the common room?”

 

Draco sighed and shook his head, nodding his chin towards the foot long stack in his arms. “Can’t.”

 

Pansy picked one up and held up the cover: **Quibbler - Warbles are trying to communicate! Exclusive interview inside.**

 

Draco felt his face flush red, the heat of it was making him sweat.

 

“Erm…Yeah...” He was stumped, he didn’t know how to explain his way out of this one.

 

“Draco, what’s happening?” Pansy said frustratedly, she dropped the magazine back at its place on top. “You’re an Omega, so what? No one’s treated you any different in Slytherin. We love you. But we feel like you’re ashamed of us. Clearly you’re doing this for Loony - why? Why aren’t you telling me anything?” She was beginning to cry, her mascara running down her face in black streaks. “I - I just want thinks to go back to normal. Do you hate me, Draco? Have I upset you?”

  
  
“No, Pans. Darling - shit - “ Draco dropped his mountain of tabloids to the floor, some of them slid and skid across the polished wood. “Listen to me, Pansy. I’m not upset with you. You piss me the hell off a great deal of times, but Morgana’s promise I would never hate you. A lot’s happened. A lot I’m not ready to talk about, and I’ve been having to deal with it a lot on my own. Lovegood was one of the first people to actually just think of me as a person since this awful summer break. I felt like I owed her, you understand don’t you. It’s like… Remember when you weren’t sure about those green robes to one of my parents functions, you were worried people would make fun of you? You were scared they’d call you a fat lime?”

 

She sniffled but nodded, accepting Draco’s hands as he wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

 

“And to make you feel better I wore the exact same thing?”

 

Her laugh was muffled a bit by Draco’s hands cupping her cheeks, he gave her a fierce kiss to the forehead. “You stupid girl, I care so much about you. I want you to like Luna too. She’s actually kind of funny once you have a real conversation with her. Now, are you gonna help me hand these out?”

 

“Pfft.” The shorter girl snorted and squawked out a laugh, she still seemed shaken but was doing her best to hide it. “You wish, my love. I’ll see you later. I’m almost certain there’s a chocolate cake in the kitchen with my name in frosting.”

 

“Snag me a lemon tart if you could.”

 

“Of course. And… thank you…”

 

“Anytime, Pansy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Draco had finished handing off the last tabloid to some fearful Second Year just outside of the Great Hall. Draco had shoved it into his chest, and sarcastically cheered “Congratulations! This is yours now.”

 

“Oh okay…” The freckled boy gulped, clutching it in his sweaty hands and shuffling away backwards. The small, fat boy awkwardly turned after he was out of arms reach and walked towards the stairs.

 

“Support your local press!” Draco called out after him.

 

The sun was setting, but he wasn’t exactly sure what time it was. It didn’t take him as long to finish as he had originally feared - Draco was very persuasive once he got into the role of a salesman, scouring each floor for potential victims. He didn’t really have anywhere to go now. He could head straight back to the common room for gossip and games ( - that lemon tart might be singing his name), or he could soak up the rays from the fleeting sun with an hour of flying. As he was deciding, something caught his eye - it was the Omega blonde from student council. She was opening the door to the herbologist’s theory room. She must be sneaking a couple of hours to do extra work on the Halloween ball prep, obviously enthusiastic about her role as leader.

 

Before he could realise what was going on, Draco’s feet carried him towards her. His body must have known he had questions.

 

He stopped right in from of her and she looked up in time as she pushed the door open. She opened her mouth in shock but recovered quickly enough.

 

“Oh, Draco. Did you need me?” Her mind was clearly assuming he’d meant to ask something about the dance, but Draco had ulterior motives. He pushed the door further in for her and held up another hand, offering her the pleasure of walking in first.

 

“I do, do you mind?” He said smoothly.

 

“Oh,” she blushed, but nodded and stepped in. “No it’s okay, I don’t mind…”

 

 

 

 

They were both sitting on top of a pair of desks, Draco with his legs crossed, and Lucia with her legs stuck out straight, feet bobbing occasionally. Once in the classroom they had spent the last thirty minutes chatting. In that time Draco had found out a lot more than he was expecting - he found out what got her in student council in the first place, which was originally on a dare with her sister last year, but she stayed for the passion she had for the work.He found out her favourite colour was yellow and she was planning to incorporate it into her costume this year. She even told him that her favourite subject was mythical animal science and she had a rabbit familiar named Gummy (he was thirteen and had lost most of his teeth).

 

Draco needed to know something more personal.

 

“Have you ever… lost control?” Draco asked. He felt like he had taken a great risk.

 

“What do you mean?” Her golden brow furrowed. Draco tried to read her, to see if there was even the slightest glint of secret understanding. He didn’t want to be on the end of giving away too much information to the wrong people. Her face was just sweetly baffled.

 

Draco shook his head. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

  
  
He was preparing to get up.

 

“Do you mean like… Magic? When you can’t control your magic?” She whispered.

 

Draco whipped around, excitedly. He inched up close to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. Finally, someone who could really understand. There was always Luna, but she just seemed to be in her own world most of the time.

 

“Yes, exactly!”

  
  
“I used to, when I first presented. I think I was ten. It got worse each year. I think it didn’t help that my parents never let me do anything. They’re both from really traditional families and they thought Omega’s aught to be in the home until they had their own Alpha.”

  
  
“When...Did you have your own Alpha?” Draco asked slowly, as if he was afraid of the answer.

 

“I was thirteen. I’m okay now, don’t worry- ”She lifted her hands and waved them reassuringly, but there was a sad expression in her eyes “ - My parents only wanted the best for me. He’s the senior head healer at a private hospital. He’s lovely, he’s very nice to me. Being bonded to him made all the problems just go away. I really do owe a lot to him. But… If I had the choice, I wouldn’t have done it. You understand, don’t you?”

  
  
“I do… I really do.” Draco said, heartbroken and feeling a little nauseous. He had almost been in a very similar situation, considering his odds bonding with Sirius Black, who was his second-cousin and twice his age. He needed to know more. “So why do you reckon it’s like this?” Why did all their magic come out of them like a burst damn? Why was it so difficult to control?

 

She shrugged and kicked her feet casually. “My mum said it was because Omega’s needed to be strong enough to protect themselves so they could stay pure. For their one true Alpha. She’d also tried to tell me that bad Omegas - the one’s who would have as many Alphas as they wanted - would get worse until they died. She said they would be stretched out so thin they’d lose all their magic. Morgana le Fey was an Omega, y’know. It took me ages in the library to find that out, since there’s not much written about us. She was seriously one of the most powerful Witches ever.”

 

“Did she have an Alpha?” Draco asked.

 

Lucia smiled.

 

“No.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg.... my hands.... theyre burning.😵
> 
> and thank you all for the comments!!!!! its very appreciated and a huge motivator for the neverending updates 
> 
> has lucia passed the mary sue test?🤣
> 
> also pansy is my absolute baby i love her ok always cracked me up in the books her bullying was so painfully 90's british school girl


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song lyrics in the beginning: [SEVDALIZE - Human](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9t7SclAXoQw) another great song for you guys to listen to as you read!!!

 

_I am flesh, bones_

_I am skin, soul_

_I am human_

_Nothing more than human_

_I am sweat, flaws_

_I am veins, scars_

_I am human_

_Nothing more than human_

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Wednesday Night_

 

 

The years of antagonism between Harry and Draco since their fateful meeting in the uniform shop had made what was supposed to be a simple courting ritual between an Alpha and his Omega feel like one long and drawn out war. But despite everything, like some sort of masochist, the more Draco acted like he wasn’t interested the more Harry wanted him. He was so conflicted - was this wrong? To want a boy who so very obviously didn’t want Harry back? He felt so desperate he was just about ready to start flipping through the Half-blood Prince’s book to find notes on the perfect Alpha scent cream - it wouldn’t be the first time it saved his skin - a flash of crimson red and the spell ’ _Sectumsempra_ ’ came to mind.

 

Harry just wanted to be irresistible to the impossible blond, but it seemed like his pheromones alone weren’t good enough. It stumped him because Harry was told on a nearly regular basis that someone was head-over-heels in love with him. It’s not like he wasn’t used to the attention, since reuniting with the Wizarding World at 11 Harry was at the centre of it, drawing people in with the fascination of his scar. But now, after his 16th birthday and presentation day,hoards of people flocked to bask in the Alpha’s strong, young allure.

  
The presentation of his second gender also introduced Harry to a new kind of hunger: to concur, it was fed by unshakeable determination, which he had as he advanced in on Draco.That perfectly symmetrical face materialised in his imagination - those fairy lips were wet from a lick by a sneaky pink tongue, they perked up into a pouty smile -

 

Harry was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn’t notice Ron, who collapsed into the plush cushioned seat opposite him.

 

“Right, we need to talk.” The red-haired Alpha declared.

 

“About what?” Harry said slowly, he was still withdrawing from his head and returning to reality. Silver eyes blinked of existence.

 

“All of this, Harry. All of it. All the bullshit. You wanting to take Malfoy to the dance, you running off and disappearing on Sunday instead of coming with us for lunch at Hagrid’s, what else? You fucking the little cunt! We were this close to having him gone and out of our lives and you fuck him - ” Ron snapped and then skidded to a halt, he looked as if the memories were causing him to short circuit. His red hair matched his face and his hands, which he was digging the heels of into his eyes. It looked almost like he was on the verge of gouging his eyes out from the frustration. “You can’t possibly like him. Getting it out of your system was one thing, but he’s gotten into your head. I mean - for crying out loud - you were already obsessed since First Year, but ever since Malfoy presented you’ve been _whipped_.”

 

“You don’t get it - “

  
“Yea, I clearly fucking don’t!”

 

Harry kept his mouth shut. Ron would never understand what this was, and Harry himself would never really know how to even explain it. There was just a natural fascination that bewitched him, in spite of the way the Slytherin bully had treated Harry and his loved ones for all these years. Just from the way Draco moved, with the calm and deadly precision of a tiger, had Harry go wild. The authority in his presence, even if he was the smallest in the room, could subdue anyone. It made Harry’s unwanted celebrity status feel insignificant, which kept him from flying too close into the sun.

 

“Maybe he has gotten into my head,” Harry said, sounding sarcastic, he was already exhausted with this conversation. “Maybe his smell has rot my brain to goo and I’ve stopped thinking like the _Real Harry_.”

 

“You’re starting to sound like a Slytherin.” Ron growled, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Wonder why.”

  
  
Before Harry could bite out a reply, Romilda walked into their conversation. She cleared her throat and waved a hand in front of Harry’s line of site. “Hey, Scar-boy. I wanted to ask you some things about the decorations.”

 

Harry looked up and gave her a crooked smile, he then shot Ron a look that said he wanted him to leave. Ron did, albeit complaining and with an indignant puff of air from his chest. “Don’t mind him” Harry said loudly, as if trying to speak over Ron’s grumbling, while offering the now vacant chair in front of him. The fire nearby crackled in the moments of quiet and the heat that radiated on Harry’s shins would become more noticeable.

 

“Tense situation,” the Alpha girl joked uncomfortably, and fell into the chair with a flop. “On Friday you and Malfoy were talking about what charms to use for the Great Hall. I wanted to ask if you wanted to collab with Augustus and I? We finally got the Hex Girls to agree to the opening gig and I wanted to do something with bats transporting them in and out but we don’t know anything complicated enough.”

  
  
Harry nodded. Draco was already considering enchanting shadow animals to run across the floor and to fly around the walls and ceiling -thatcould be their best bet. “That’s really cool, sounds like you’ve got entertainment sorted. We might be able to help out, just pass me the notes of what you were thinking and we can add some ideas to it? Could work out the practical at this weeks club meeting?”

  
She grinned and dug around for something in her book-bag, she pulled out a fistful of notes and passed them over. Harry took them with a passing thought that he might need to straighten them out a bit, already predicting that Draco wasn’t going to look at them in this state.

 

“Thanks, and uh, thanks to Draco too.” Romilda said. “I’ll see ya later?”

 

“Yea, will give these back to you then.”

 

Harry waved her goodbye and stared back into the flickering flames, it didn’t seem like Ron would be returning to pick up where he left off.It might have been a trick of the light, but Harry was beginning to make out glowing silver eyes inside the burning embers of the fire. Harry’s face and neck was heating up from the proximity

 

The activity in the common room suddenly died down, and the whoosh of someone approaching from behind cooled down the back of Harry’s exposed neck.

 

“Mr. Potter?” The mild-accented Professor McGonagall said, getting his attention. “Could you come with me?”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Professor Snape had once again ordered Draco to come see him after dinner, this time to work on improving the boy’s mindfulness. Snape had explained that fine-tuning his control over his emotional mind with meditating and self-reflective thinking was their next step. Apparently meditation was already an important aspect of Legemency, so, along with the extraordinary training Draco would receive to control his magic, they would also be sitting together in silence for hours. Draco seriously couldn’t think of anything worse.

 

Snape was already waiting for him just outside his study’s doors.

 

“Oh, hello Prof— “ Draco started, but the man put his hand up to stop him.

 

“ - There has been a change of plans. Headmaster has called a meeting.” Snape interrupted.

 

Draco tilted his head deliberately. “Did he say what for?”

 

Snape wasn’t persuaded. “Stop asking so many questions boy, come.”

 

The walk was brisk and quiet, it didn’t feel like the right time for Draco to bring up what was on his mind involving the older man. Snape himself was pretending as if it never happened, he hadn’t mentioned it once, and that suited Draco more than it didn’t.For the last few days the boy had been intentionally trying to forget their after-class meeting from a week ago.

 

But it was a shame he couldn’t really fully shake himself free from it.

 

 

 

 

_“And what was it like?” Snape asked again, seriously._

 

_Draco squirmed a little, Snape hadn’t let up once and the heat of their chests nearly touching was getting to the boy. “I dunno’…? Weird? How would you explain breathing to someone who’s only heard it for the first time?”_

 

_The Alpha leant in, close enough that Draco felt pressured enough to take a few steps back, until his lower back touched the corner of the teaching desk._

 

_Snape loomed before him, at his full height._

 

_“You don’t… you only show them.”_

 

_“Wait - “ Draco tried, but it was too late. The man enveloped him, lifting his smooth chin up and planting a deep kiss to his lips._

 

_Draco shoved him away and gasped out a breath._

 

_“You’re just a temptress.” Snape whispered just above his face, tone low and sinister. “A seductress.”_

 

_Draco felt distraught. “I’m 17 and in high-school. There’s only so much I’m capable of.”_

 

_“Shut up,” Snape snapped, leaning in again. He looked as if he was preparing to kiss the Omega again. “You know exactly what you are capable of.”_

_  
  
“I have to go,” Draco said urgently, afraid of the whole situation escalating, and pushed his way out of the man’s sensual hold. He didn’t wait to be excused and fled to the door. _

 

_Because of the blood oath, Draco’s life may be owed to the man eventually, but one thing would always remain clear: Severus Snape was a cold, calculating, and selfish man._

 

 

 

 

The Dark Arts teacher lead Draco up all seven floors (eight including the dungeons) to the entrance of the spiralling staircase. The gargoyle stood there unmoving in their way.

 

“Gummy bears,” spat Snape, clearly feeling stupid having to say the password out loud.

  
  
Unaffected by the venom in Snape’s tone, the stone gargoyle sprang aside, and they both climbed up to the Headmaster’s tower. Draco could smell the crowd of people before he could see them, Potter, the Headmaster, and Professor McGonagall.

 

“What is this about?” Draco said, reaching the top of the stairs, before Headmaster Dumbledore could even greet him.

 

Snape and McGonagall hushed him. Potter only met his eyes and smiled reassuringly.

 

“Your heat, Draco.” Dumbledore said gravely. “When exactly do you believe it will start?”

 

He was far straighter to the point than Draco was expecting, it made things very uncomfortable to talk about with Potter and McGonagall as his audience.

  
“We can’t talk about this in private?” Draco reasoned.

 

“I’m afraid not this time, decisions will be made that involve Harry. Professor McGonagall is here in his interest as Professor Snape is in yours.”

 

_He’s not here in my interest._

 

“Okay…”

 

 

  
It was an ultimatum. Dumbledore expressed that he felt he needed to quickly solve this problem now before it became a dangerous disaster, and the easiest way to solve it was to officially bond Potter to Draco, during his heat. If it really occurred on a tri-monthly basis, that meant it would be coming once before the Halloween ball, and one again shortly sometime after.

 

Draco wasn’t so sure if they came accurately or on an irregular schedule, since he’s only had his first.

 

“I can handle it by myself.” Draco tried to say confidently, but his mouth betrayed him and he only managed to whisper the words out.

  
  
“No,” his Headmaster said, it didn’t sound like he was even taking him seriously. “I don’t think you can. The situation at the lake had reminded me that if I don’t take action now, it will not only be a costly mistake, but a deadly one. An Alpha is needed to behave as an insulator to your magic, Harry has agreed to performing the mateship with you properly. I need you to agree to this too, Draco, or I will have to ask you to leave Hogwarts.”

 

The ground could come away from beneath Draco’s feet in that moment and it still wouldn’t have been as sudden and gut-wrenching as the feeling of being told his one freedom was going to be taken away from him.

 

“I still have time, I have a week left. I can prove to you that - “

 

“ _No_.” His Headmaster boomed, this was the first time Draco had truly seen the man frustrated. His pure-white hair was wilder than usual, and his usually immaculate robes were wrinkled from lack of proper spell-care. Everyone looked as if they had flinched from the volume in his voice. “No,” he said again, this time more gentle, swiping his hand once through his beard. “Everyone has to make a sacrifice for the greater good, and this is yours. Please just agree to these terms, and I will make sure you’re taken care of during the whole ordeal. Harry will be good for you.”

 

.

..

…

 

_The offer’s there… Just think about it. Okay?_

 

_…_

_.._

_._

 

“It doesn’t only have to be Potter, does it?” Draco deduced, staring the old Alpha down challengingly. “I just need an Alpha.”

 

Draco didn’t need to look at Potter to know he froze where he stood, possibly with a goofy look of abject betrayal etched all over his face.

  
  
Dumbledore leant back assessingly. “…Yes. ” 

 

“Then I’ll choose who I want to spend my mateship with, I at least deserve that.”

 

Professor McGonagall looked affronted. “Harry has already agreed to be your mate.”

 

“But _I_ haven’t agreed,” Draco shot back, staring the Beta down with a glare.

 

Draco still didn’t meet Potter’s bright green eyes, afraid of what he would see. If only Draco could post-pone this conversation to the near date of never.

 

“Very well.” Dumbledore said, accepting defeat this time, and nodded once to the young Omega. “Speak to me in three days with who you have chosen. They would have to agree to the terms we have just discussed.”

 

“…Of course,” Draco said, doing his best to avoid letting out a relieved sigh.

 

He had managed to buy himself some time.

 

 

 

 

Potter and Draco leave the tower together in silence.

 

“Do you really not like me that much?” Said Potter once they reached the bottom and had slipped out from the entrance.

 

If you had asked Draco that question two months ago, he would have laughed and taken the opportunity to say _“Wasn’t that obvious?”._ If you had asked the question a week ago, the answer may have possibly still been the same. But now, looking up at the crestfallen boy before him, his real answer would be riddled with complicated and non-committed excuses. 

 

“It’s not that…” Draco heard himself say before he could come up with a better response. “I’m just…”

  
  
“I thought we got over this when we did this the first time.” Potter said bitterly. “It turned out fine.”

 

“The first time I was desperate, lonely, and I wanted to leave that house by any means necessary. I wouldn’t use it as your argument’s saving grace.” Draco’s eyes narrowed to slits.

 

Potter grumbled something out unintelligible, still in a mood, but pulled out a small stack of folded notes. “Here.” He grunted. “Notes from Romilda. She wants help with interactive decorations for the band she’s sorted out. These are her notes. I’ve already added my own so just don’t forget them on Friday.”

 

Draco took them gingerly, and as soon as they parted from the Alpha’s hand he whipped around and stomped towards the direction of the Gryffindor towers.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The last two students up in the Slytherin dorms happened to be the two people Draco was hoping to see most.

 

 

“Darling!” Pansy greeted happily, noticing his arrival through the wall, she lifted up part of the quilted blanket beside her as an invitation for the Omega to slip in.

 

Blaise was sitting on the sofa with her on her other side, already under the covers too. The solemn young man had never looked so relaxed in his life.

 

“What time is it?” Draco asked as he snuggled into the opening, the side of Pansy’s body was like a furnace and Draco gratefully welcomed it.

 

The Beta girl hummed and stroked his fine blond hair, if Draco could purr he would. “Midnight maybe? Everyone went to bed only ten minutes ago so not that late.”

 

“Feels like it’s been hours,” Draco groaned with his eyes shut, Pansy combed out a knot forming in his hair. “Maybe I should mutinise? I’d be a great Headmaster.”

  
  
“You would, the best.” Pansy placated him, her voice was like a dream.

 

“What exactly happened?” Blaise asked curiously, his face poked out from over Pansy’s busty chest.

 

“Everything happened.” Draco said, but shook his head when he realised that didn’t really make sense. “I’ve been given three days to accept being mated by Potter on my heat or I’ll be expelled.”

  
  
“That’s a little traditional for our oh-so-progressive Headmaster. But that’s not too bad, didn’t you say Potter was good in bed?” Pansy smirked.

 

“Pansy stop thinking with your genitals for a second. Merlin.” His hands came up to scrub at his face roughly. “This is actually serious.”

 

The dark-haired girl hummed, and Draco could feel it through their touching shoulders.

 

“Well, what’s the first thing you notice when he approaches you?”

 

“The audacity,” said Draco, appalled. And _his smell. Or his eyes. That smile… The sheer size of him._

 

She rolled he eyes. “Yes, and then what? Are you capable of talking to him? Could you see yourself doing that once a day?”

 

“I suppose…” Draco said.

 

“Then you’d both be no different than any other normally-functioning mated couple. Congratulations.” She clapped slowly and let out a pathetic ‘woo’ out loud into the quiet of the common room.

 

“At least other couples get to _choose.”_ Draco snapped, unhappy with how quickly she was solving this issue.

 

“Do they? Do they really? Yours didn’t, they got together right after high school because it looked good and that’s what people were expecting them to do. Same with mine. Same with Blaise - in the beginning, at least. True love is bullshit, kitten. You know that. It’s stupid and a waste of time. Potter has money and power, what more could you ask for really?”

 

“Hey, Parkinson,” Blaise interrupted before Draco could respond. “Do you mind giving Draco and I a minute alone? We need a moment man-to-man.”

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

“Forget a minute, I’m going to bed. Spell out the stains from the sofa when you’re done, Mr. Manly-Men.”

 

  
“What the hell is matter with you?” Blaise scoffed as she de-tangled herself from the quilt.

 

She giggled instead of compensating him with a response, giving her two favourite boys a quick kiss on the crowns of their heads before she retired for the night.

 

As soon as she had left down the halls of the dungeons, Blaise asked, “Have you thought about what I offered?”

  
  
“…I did,” Draco said, staring off into the fireplace, searching the embers for inspirations of wisdom and patience.

 

“And…?” Blaise prompted.

 

“And…” Draco started, then slowly shut his mouth again, this time cautious of his word choice. What ever he chose he was going to be unhappy. He could accept his unfortunate circumstances and settle for Potter, or accept Blaise’s strategic bond. Could Draco ever truly be satisfied? He had two paths, and he could only choose one. Mate to an egotistical, abrasive Alpha who had spent all of Draco’s high school years being the thorn in his ass, or mate to a ruthless and calculating Alpha that openly confessed that he wasn’t even interested in Omegas to begin with? Was that eventually going to cause a whole heap of problems on its own?

 

Did he really have to choose? Wasn’t he more clever than this?

  
  
“And… thank you,” he finally said, looking to the side to meet Blaise’s dark brown eyes, now molten bronze in the firelight. “But I’m going to try and solve this without an Alpha.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> points to the first reader to guess where the hex girls are from ;)))) 
> 
> if you're anything like me your favourite types of fics are when everyone is a dysfunctional mess! 
> 
>  
> 
> anyway the ball is rolling!!! i reckon this story will complete in 5 more chapters :^) let me know which has been your absolute fav chapter so far, would love to know <3


	17. Chapter 17

 

 

_Thursday Afternoon_

 

 

Draco was on the verge of skipping Thursdays classes.

 

What was even the point? There was so much on his plate that the last thing he wanted to use his time doing was translating ancient runes or transfiguring complicated atoms into different but equally complicated atoms. He knew mother wouldn’t have approved, and he also wasn’t going to let this stroke of overwhelmingly bad luck tarnish his immaculate academic reputation, so he journeyed on, like a convict waiting for an inevitable sentence.

 

The bell for lunch announced. The worry swimming in his thoughts was upsetting his appetite, making it hard to think about anything related to food. All Draco wasinterested in was finding help - but a question kept coming back around like an overzealous race hound: who was going to do it?

 

There was always Luna. How exactly did she manage being 16 years old in a private boarding school swarming with horny, unmated Alphas and still remain unbonded? She never mentioned any particular difficulties with her magic, in fact at first scent you wouldn’t have been able to tell if she was an Omega at all with her stink pouch and heavy hand on pheromone suppressants. He recalled her also mentioning on the train she was fortunate enough to present early like an Omega was supposed to, but Lucia did too and she couldn’t escape their dreaded fate.

 

Draco decided to stick his head into the Great Hall to scan the Ravenclaw table. He wasn’t surprised to see she wasn’t there. It did, however, give him new enthusiasm to find her. For a moment Draco considered doing something he wasn’t quite ready to do - at the end of the hall he could make out Potter’s mop of black curls. The map could be helpful, but Draco didn’t believe the boy was going to be overly thrilled with helping him find her again this time.

 

He decided it was best if he just tried the Owlery again.  
  
By the time he made it to the top floor he was flushed and slightly sweaty. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, the other pushed in the door to the final set of stairs leading up to the owl’s keep. He gasped out a wheezy “Luna?” Into the tower, the sound travelled up the spiral stone way and echoed for a couple of seconds. If she didn’t respond he was going to assume she wasn’t up there, he didn’t want to pointlessly walk all the way up only to make his way back down again.  
  
The sound of a few dozen feathered wings being shaken and small clawed feet scampering over straw was his response.

 

Draco sighed internally and took a step back, pulling to the door shut after him.

 

“Draco?” Came the response he was hoping for.

 

“Luna? Hey - “ Draco thrust the door open again and jogged up the stairs, gasping for air as he did;you’d think five years of Quidditch and the summer holidays spent dragon riding in France would make him capable of trekking seven flights of stairs. “I - huff - need your help.”

 

When he made it to the top step, the Owlery came into view clearly in the afternoon. The large, glass-less windows surrounding the circular room offered a generous amount of natural golden light to give enough detail to every owl pen, the owls, the ancient architecture of the room, the horrifying number of small animal bones, and Luna nearby, in her uniform sitting on her book bag, eating a sandwich.

 

“Here again by yourself?” Draco said curiously, but he must have sounded mean because she looked a little shocked and stared down at her lunch awkwardly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He reassured her.

 

She smiled and played delicately with the small linen pouch around her neck. “Oh. Don’t be sorry. I like it here, it’s quiet and the owls are always so funny.”

 

Draco hummed conversationally, but he couldn’t disagree with her more if he tried. The smell of hot, partially-consumed animal parts and owl shit was making him dizzy. “Are you not interested in eating in the hall with everyone else?”

 

She looked down again at that, and took a bite out of what looked like a cucumber-only sandwich. “Not really. People are complicated.”

 

They are. “People can also be interested in what you have to say, there’s not much of a conversation happening between you and these guys.”

 

“No there’s lots to talk about,” she said pleasantly. As if to make her point she tossed a crumb to a nearby snowy owl, it almost looked like Potter’s except for the darker grey colour. “Isn’t that right, Wedges?”

 

 

It hooted at her and fluttered its wings a couple of times before pecking the unassuming crumb out of existence.

 

“See?”

 

“I see.”

 

He took a self-assuring breath and threw his own school bag down onto the clearest space on the floor, sitting himself delicately down. “So anyway, as I was saying. I need your help.”

 

“Oh, is it your magic?” She blinked up, smiling knowingly. “That was a little freaky last Tuesday night. You’re very powerful.”

 

“Luna if you already knew it was me why didn’t you say anything?” Draco rested his forehead on his knees, sometimes he wanted to strangle the girl.

 

“Well, you didn’t say anything either. I thought you were still figuring things out.” She said through another bite of her sandwich.

 

“I am - Merlin, I would’ve figured things out a little faster if I had more people just telling me what the hell is going on.” He was so close to grabbing a fistful of hay and throwing it at her, but he was frightened of what foul smelling things have touched it first.

 

She just smiled at him again with that signature glazed-eye stare.

 

“Must be confusing,” she said after a while, and then tossed another crumb to an adolescent elf owl. “All this mumbo-jumbo. I’m sure your family never talked about this stuff.”

 

She wasn’t wrong. His deeply conservative family, if forced to make the choice at the end of an active wand, would rather discuss Muggle politics than the goings-on regarding their second gender, especially of an _Omega_.

 

“Tell me about it.” He said with a sigh. “This has been - to put it politely - an absolute cockup of a semester.”

 

“So will you be bonding soon?” She asked.

 

“I’m going to have to,” Draco shrugged. “I’m not really being given much of a choice.”

 

She nodded understandingly. “I’m sorry.”

 

Draco pointed to her necklace. “You don’t suppose I can have one of those?”

 

She laughed and shook her head. “No, sorry. My dad made this for me. He’s very protective.”

 

“That’s fair. You said you coped okay because you were put on suppressants early like you were supposed to… But that can’t be it, surely? Is there nothing else keeping you from exploding? What have you done that keeps you from needing an Alpha?”

 

She pulled out an opened juice box from her skirt’s pocket and sipped from the straw.

 

“I never actually had to go through the same problem that you have to. I’ve heard about it, and read about it, even my dad told me what it was like, my mum went through it. It’s how she died. He said it’s supposed to come from your amygdala, in the limbic system of your brain. It’s where all your emotionally charged memories get stored, and it’s where you’re most active in the brain when you lose control of your magic. That’s basically how first Wizards divided things. Alphas controlled logic and physical strength and Omegas controlled emotions and magical strength. But… I don’t really understand emotions very well… I never have…” She put the juice box away and was running her fingers through her curled pigtails, looking nervous. “No ones ever really been interested in me anyway. I like it, though. I’m not interested in others like that. This way I know that the people who do talk to me only want to for me and not because of anything else.” 

 

Draco stared her in the eyes as he processed what she was telling him, she smiled weakly in return.

 

“So what do you reckon I should do? Because I don’t exactly want to bond. I’m not ready yet,” he said.

 

She hummed. “Do you know when it’s supposed start?”

 

“Of course not. Maybe next week?”He toed a piece of hay aside with his shoe. “I don’t keep a diary for it or anything.” He huffed a laugh to himself.

 

“Maybe you should, I do.” Luna said.

 

“You’re not serious…Really?”

 

She nodded and pulled out a small pink spiral notebook with bedazzled butterflies on the cover, passing it to him.

 

Draco touched the front, never seeing a book like this in his life. “Where’d you get this monstrosity?”

 

“The pound shop when my dad took me to muggle London.”

 

“Neat,” he said in fascination. He flipped the book open to expose its lined pages, Luna had scribbled notes all over it. There wasn’t any coherency anywhere, half the words weren’t even legible. She had sentences written diagonally, horizontally, and in arches. She had little animated doodles of people and animals on most of the corners of each page, the enchanted drawings were doing little dances or repetitive movements. Whatever Luna expected him to understand or learn from what she had written Draco wasn’t sure he’d be able to find, so he closed it with a snap and offered it back to her. “If I can keep myself from repressing the trauma I’ll consider keeping tabs.”

 

“Please do, I’d love to share notes.” She stuffed the mystical bright pink artefact back into her canvas book bag. “So not much time for a strategy, huh?”

 

“No, not really. I’ve just been trying to keep a better control of my emotions. Y’know, breathing techniques and things like that.”

 

The bell to end lunchtime rung throughout the school, but being the highest point of the castle the sound in the Owlery was a little faint. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” she brushed her skirt of crumbs and hay. “If it makes you feel any better, an Alpha doesn’t have to be forever.”

 

“It’s alright, and no that doesn’t make me feel any better at all, but thanks.” He accepted her hand-up as she pulled the both of them to their feet.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Friday, Early Evening_

 

 

Being mindful was a lot harder than Draco imagined. Nothing seemed harder than trying to avoid your internal contradictions, long-repressed fears, and incessant need for validation while doing nothing but sit still observing your _breathing_ , it’s not like he had faculty to instruct the mind what not to think. Of course as soon as he was given his ultimatum Wednesday night Snape put a stop to any more after school aid, likely to crush Draco’s spirits, without hope the Omega was unlikely to bother trying to solve things on his own without a mate. Instead of putting his emotional mind to rest, Draco’s brain was defiantly doing the exact opposite - He could feel nothing but a vial hatred for all his teachers. He was bitter at their rash decision, all for the sake of solving the issue quickly with minimal fallout. _I’m the fallout_. How Draco felt wasn’t important, it wasn’t important to his parents, it wouldn’t be to anyone else.

  
  
Another thing that made mindfulness and meditation impossible was that Draco would often times find himself facing the uncomfortable truth: he probably wasn’t emotionally prepared enough for his next heat. Everyone was right and since he’d already done this with Potter before there was no reason he had to be so difficult. His body wanted it anyway, why fight it?

 

The smell of freshly watered plants of the herbology theory room was like a muffler and it quietened his buzzing thoughts as he walked in. Draco set down the stack of notes he had rewritten on finer quality paper, with emerald green ink.They were the decoration designs planned for the 31st. It was basically an analysis of several edited enchantments or new spells, factually detailing their effects on the aesthetic, mood, lighting, sound, and overall experience of a party. The young Malfoy didn’t play around when it came to thrilling guests. He had spent years shadowing his mother when she would host - he had witnessed first-hand how to organise things from the simplest five course brunch to an all black-robe function for his father and his _political_ _friends_.

 

He had come up with ideas like snakes swimming in water-bubble-balloons, or little demons transfigured from buttons to flutter around blowing fire. His favourite were the shadow animals that would run around the room and up the ceiling, it was the spell he was most excited to see it fully performed in a room after all the hours it took working out the technical issues.Creating your own spells and enchantments were always very rewarding and could pay off when done right, but the concept and theory a Wizard had to apply was no picnic.

 

The door was pushed open and Draco could make out Lucia’s blonde head peak through for a second, after seeing it was only Draco inside she smiled and walked in, posture relaxed. “Hi Draco, how are you? Oh I see you brought the notes Romilda was telling me about…” She picked one up after putting down her armful of note books and quill pens. “Wow, this looks a little hard. It would be wicked if you pull it off though! Here let me show you what we’re planning - “ She swapped one of Draco’s notes for hers and thrust it into his direction. He charily plucked it from her hand and began to read as she continued to speak. “ - I don’t know if your family ever had this growing up but my family are crazy about Madeira cakes, but we’d do it with almonds and candied pumpkin. I wanted to have the elves help me make a massive one. As big as the Great Hall’s clock, with little dancing skeletons on it. It’s going to be _so_ good.”

 

She had the brightest grin on her face, her eyes twinkled in the setting sun’s orange glow.

 

Draco tried to smile back, but only managed a puny smirk.

 

“What’s wrong?” She said instantly, like she could smell the pain rather than see it.

 

“I’m being given until tomorrow to say who I’m going to let bugger me and make me theirs for… life, probably.” Back at Grimmauld Draco had naively assumed it may have only been until school ended, but now with the added issue of being an emotionally-triggered explosive it was likely going to be his reality until he eventually died - or until he ripped out the part of his brain that gave him emotions. A _n Alpha doesn’t have to be forever, said Luna. The more he thought about it the more he wasn't so sure. “_ I’m pretty scared, if I’m going to be honest.”

 

“It’s not so bad,” she said soothingly, running a hand up his sleeved arm. “It was the only way I could stop myself from hurting others when I lost control. It’s no one’s fault.”

 

“But I know I can figure it out… They’re not giving me enough time. “ That part in the back of Draco’s mind reared its smug head, reminding him that he knew all along that everyone had been right. _Why was he being so difficult?_

 

“What other option do you have?” Lucia asked.

 

“I don’t know...” His voice dwindled to a whisper.

 

If he ran away without the protection of Hogwarts wards he would be found in a day. He had no where to run.

 

He could fight.

 

He could fight bloody tooth and nail, and take everyone down in this school with him.

 

But then he’d be expelled. Once again without Hogwart's wards.

 

What left could he do?

 

“There’s nothing to do,” Lucia said, as if answering the question in his mind. “Harry is really kind and helpful, he’d be really good for you.”

 

“Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll let it get to his head,” Draco grumbled, and then he paused. He stared hard at something in the distance before blinking when a thought struck him. “Maybe I could hide out in the forest until it’s all over? The wards extend past the forest, I could camp out there for a few days?” Dumbledore would surely forgive him? If no harm came to anyone, it’s not like he had a real case against Draco.

 

“You wouldn’t,” she said, shocked.

  
  
“If I’m desperate enough, bloody well maybe.”

 

“It’s not safe to be out there alone, and you’re not immune to yourself Draco. You could really hurt yourself and no one would know.” She rolled up a sleeve of her uniforms jumper, exposing a lumpy knot of scar tissue running around the inner corner of her elbow. “I got this from my third heat. There’s one like this on my right leg too, I nearly lost both of them. Luckily no one got hurt because of me…”

 

Draco stared at it gravely for a few a seconds, but couldn’t say a response in time as Potter walked in with Eleanor, Romilda, and Augustus. In the corner of his eye Draco could see her quickly roll her sleeve back down and press her arms together by her side, flustered and embarrassed in the presence of the Alpha. Potter only tipped Draco with an acknowledging nod, not quite over his resentment from two days ago.

  
  
He tolerated the silent treatment, Draco couldn’t ignore the spiking in his blood pressure and the furious blush to his cheeks - there was no competing thing in the universe that pissed Draco Malfoy off more than not having someone’s full attention.

 

With great difficulty, they worked together for an hour or so. Potter didn’t say much of anything to his Omega, deliberately keeping any questions about their duties short or general enough for the whole room. Draco’s wasn’t even able to enjoy testing out the shadow animals he was looking forward to. With a couple of spins from his wand a black fog poured from the tip of it, it spread like ink onto the floor. The smoke, as if alive, shuddered and divided rapidly, like a cell being split into smaller copies of itself. The dozens of black shadows turned into unmistakable two-dimensional animals, things like snakes, rats, bats, spiders, cats. They scurried across the floor and up the walls, running around in an organised sequence of circles and simple shapes, as if doing a choreographed dance.

 

The studentswatched in amazement at the performance. Draco felt a pull to look away, and turned, surprised to see Lucia staring sadly at him. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was probably half past seven by the time Draco had retreated from the first floor to make his weary way back to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. It hadonly been Potter, Romilda, Augustus, and Draco left working on spells together to fuse concepts from their perspective roles. Lucia was the first to go, which was unusual for her, and Eleanor left shortly after.

  
Before Draco could even touch his wand to the common room’s stone wall, a house elf with a twisted nose and cleft lip Apparated in front of him. The creature was only tall enough to reach Draco’s hip so it had to bend back it’s head painfully far to meet Draco’s eyes.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, sir, please come with Niffler to the Headmaster’s room.”

  
  
“Why?”

  
“He urgently wishes to speak with you.”

 

Draco tried to shove Niffler aside at the face, but the skin on it’s cheek was like elastic, old leather. The only thing that moved were it’s eyes bulging from its sockets.

 

“I don’t care, he can talk to me tomorrow. I don’t want to see him. Move!”

 

“No - Mr. Malfoy must.” The house elf was determined and stood its ground, its wrinkled skin almost seemed to swallow Draco’s hand whole, so Draco had to pull away in disgust. “You must come.”

 

“I said no!” Draco tried to stretch his other hand out to tap his wand to the wall again, Dumbledore be damned, but the elf’s skeletal hands clamped onto his forearm and refused to let go. “Hey! No! Get off —“

 

And then the elf Disapparated, whisking Draco off with it from the dungeons, leaving behind only the echo of a crack of lightning.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

As soon as Draco Apparated he could hear the antique gramophone playing some sort of Russian ballet music, and could quickly make out the collection of portraits lining the walls, the spindly tables upon which were set delicate looking silver instruments that whirred and emitted small puffs of smoke, the incredible miniature library of books, the oak executive desk, as well as the old Alpha himself sitting comfortably behind it. Lucia was sitting in one of the two chairs in front of Dumbledore’s desk, looking nervous and rubbing her hands together. Draco didn’t need to wait for Dumbledore to say what the sudden meeting was about, he made a guess. He furiously pointed to the other Omega.

 

“You Judas bitch!”

 

“Now, now. Draco, you don’t need to— ”

 

“—You—“ Were he a cat he would’ve had every fine blond hair on his body standing as he whirled in on the Headmaster. “You did this on purpose!” Draco screamed, feeling so angry that tears were threatening to spring out from his eyes. “You knew I would talk to her! You knew I would say something!”

 

The house elf had cued its departure with another Disapparation crack, it didn’t say goodbye, probably feeling overwhelmed by the hostility between the three humans.

 

“I’m so, so sorry, Draco… It’s… This is important. It has to be this way or you’ll get worse. You can’t control it, you know you can’t. There’s no way you can fix it. I had to tell him what you were going to do…” Lucia was crying now, holding herself tightly as she did. Each tear was the size of a small coin, rolling clear down her freckled face to drop in rapid succession from her chin.

 

“No one’s giving me enough time!” Draco shouted. “I managed not to explode before, no one’s giving me the chance to prove that it can be fine again!”

 

“We have given you as much time as we can afford. What if when you experience your heat and the disaster by the lake occurs in your bedroom? Lucia has been kind enough to explain to me that with each heat the consequences can be graver than the last. I don’t believe this time around that you would be able to control your emotions enough in such an unusual state.”

 

“I can… You have to believe me, please.” Draco slammed his hands on Dumbledore’s desk and hung his head low, he was one more plea away from falling to his knees. “I _promise_.”

 

“I won’t gamble the lives of three hundred people on just a promise, Draco.”

 

“Then… send me somewhere else until it’s over. But please accept me back when I finish…” He appealed, feeling as if he was grasping for straws.

  
  
“And where would you go?”

 

“I don’t know, anywhere. I’ll go anywhere.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Sure, I’ll take him.”

 

In the last three weeks since the start of the school semester, nothing about Sirius Black had changed. His hair was still the same shoulder length, black mane and hisbroad jawed mug was still as handsome, even his short-trimmed stubble was sheared in the same angles. His usual golden skin was cast in a red light as his image projected from the flames of the Floo. Draco and Dumbledore were leaning in slightly with bent knees, close enough to feel the heat of the fire tingle their skin. Lucia had been sent away back to Ravenclaw house only ten minutes ago.

 

“I thought he was filled in?” Draco said incredulously.

 

“I am. I know you’re a ticking bomb, blondie.”

 

“Then I’m confused, why would you accept?” Draco stared into the illusion of his eyes, the metal grey he remembered now an amalgamation of golds, reds, and blinding yellow.

 

Sirius shrugged. “Where else would you go? Besides, I’m assuming you’re going to try to - y’know - not blow up?”

 

Draco let out a disbelieving laugh, it sounded nervous to his ears. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

 

“But that’s aside the point. How is Harry not supposed to be here? I thought he’d bonded with Malfoy already.”

  
  
“Severus and Minerva had filled me in on details I was not aware of the first time, I’m not very savvy of these things. The boys had undergone a ‘partial-bond’, the consummation wasn’t complete, despite Harry’s _vivid_ description of a change of… _perception_. The heat is necessary after all, which you yourself had eventually experienced with your ex-mate. So any severe health side-effects to Harry, similar to your own bond during your time with us at Hogwarts, is not exactly a concern, Sirius.”

 

“He’s not completely bonded? What does that mean? How’s he been allowed to go on like that for this long?” There was a sudden shift in his tone, he seemed more alert and agitated, like a poked lion.

 

“I’ll remind you that we only have four known Omegas in this school, possibly less than ten in the whole country. What I know about them, and how to cope with a situation involving them is somewhat rudimentary.”

 

Draco looked up from the Floo fire at that. Who was the fourth?

 

“Alright, alright.” Sirius ebbed off. “So what’s the plan? He’s training it back here and I deliver him to Grimmauld?”

 

“If you’re happy with that?” Dumbledore questioned.

 

“Sure, I can pick him up from the station.”

 

“It’s settled then. Draco will stay with you throughout his heat, and will return to school as soon as he’s ready.”

 

“Sounds good,” the dark haired Alpha said, not quite looking at Dumbledore, more interested in staring perfervidly at Draco himself. “See ya then.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoooo boy i feel like this one was an explainy one! 
> 
> so ya main reason why Luna can be her own cool special omega is coz she might be a teensy wee bit on the spectrum 
> 
> also hey hey hey ya fav boy sirius is back ;) <3 but fear not everyone i can assure u this is and always was going to be a drarry fic so u just get to sit back and see how that eventually unfolds. 
> 
> also also my favourite thing about harry potter is the magic so if i get to talk about magic u damn well are going to see me talk about it whenever i can lmao!!! 
> 
> also also also i've been going to therapy and so as you can see i've been stealing the language my therapist uses while i write this 🤣


	18. Chapter 18

_Next Day, Saturday Morning_

 

 

“Mr. Malfoy?” Something was shaking him with two small hands on his chest.

 

Draco ignored it and continued to sleep.

 

It shook harder.

 

“Five more minutes…” Draco mumbled out to his assailant, sleepily swatting in their general direction.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, the train will be arriving in thirty minutes…”

 

“Mm…What train?” Draco turned over, away from the prodding hands, and wrapped himself tighter in his sheets.

 

“The one scheduled for four-thirty this morning, sir. Niffler will ready your things. But please wake up.”

 

Draco’s eyes opened at that and he reluctantly sat up. His bed curtains were pulled open by the damned elf, who was standing a little too close to be considered polite.

 

Four in the morning, on a Saturday.Dumbledore couldn’t wait until a reasonable time on Monday? Niffler also seemed to unofficially be appointed as Dumbledore’s personal Draco retriever.

 

“I’m leaving now?”Draco whispered through a small yawn, while he warily dragged himself out of bed. He tried to pat down his wild, bed tossed hair but it seemed fruitless without a spell. “But I’m not... I haven’t...I mean, I knew we’d be doing this just not so soon.” Draco wasn’t showing any symptoms, his neck hadn’t even started to ache yet. He didn’t think his scent had changed much, no Alpha in school was reacting any worse around him than usual. In fact Draco felt perfectly fine, if not better than he had been for the last two and a half months.

 

“Yes, sir. Headmaster told Niffler so.”

 

As the boy struggled with an on-coming wave of sleep vertigo as soon as he was standing, the elf was swishing his finger in the air, summoning Draco’s robes and personal things,they flew into the same suitcase Draco used when he was first port keyed to the historic Black family home, it was mistakenly kept open from last night. 

 

Draco stumbled blindly around the Sixth Year boys bedroom, even the underwater glow of the lake wasn’t enough for him to find his wand and slippers. It took him longer than he wanted when he finally palmed the correct spot of his bedside table, he lit a dimmed Lumos to illuminate where his slippers were.He then plucked his dressing gown from the back of his writing desk’s chair, shouldering it on. 

 

“Draco?” Blaise mumbled from the dark corner near by the door, sounding half-asleep, he seemed to be the only one disturbed by the light. The Alpha’s head barely raised off the pillow. “Where are you going?”

 

“Dumbledore’s sending me away. I’ll be back in a week.”

 

Blaise’s black cropped curls met his pillow with a soft thump, Draco could make out his eyes shutting closed again. “Oh… Be sent away quietly.”

 

Draco rolled his own eyes at that. Selfish bastard. “I’ll miss you too, darling.”

 

 

 

 

 

The sun wasn’t out yet but a pale blue ray of twilight lined the horizon, promising its appearance in an hour, the stars were still glittering in by the thousands up in the ink black sky directly above them. 

 

They crossed the bridge between Hogwarts’ grounds and Hogsmeade. Not one villager or storekeep was up yet, everything was shut and every window had their blinds drawn. After crossing through the town, the terminal could finally be made out down a cobblestoned slope, the steam train waiting for them at the platform, awake and pouring clouds of smoke from its chimney.

 

As soon as they approached the platform, Niffler gently pushed the floating suitcase towards the luggage compartment at the far end of the train, then offering Draco space to climb up the step that lead into one of the corridors.

 

“I can’t be the only one that’s going to be taking this train… Am I?” Draco asked, looking around for any other passengers.

 

“Yes, sir.” Niffler said, staying back on the platform. “Niffler wishes Mr. Malfoy a safe journey.”

 

The house elf Disapparated, the crack deafening in the early morning silence.

 

No further explanation, no direction as to where he would be meeting Sirius. No guidance. Nothing.Nothing but the time the train was meant to depart - 4:30AM - and from personal experience, how long the train typically took to get back to London - 3 hours.He wasn’t even given the chance to say goodbye to his friends or collect any homework he may be assigned for the week.

 

He sighed, annoyed by the uselessness of people, and went hunting for the best seat on the train. With no one else around he had first pickings of anywhere he wanted. He opted for the very front compartment just before the engine room, his usual choice. The open layout with wide tabled booths and large glass windows overlooking the landscape was envy fuel, this was why the Slytherins had taken territorial ownership of it long before Draco first enrolled at Hogwarts.

 

If only he’d brought a book, he was going to have a tough time having no one to talk to for the train ride.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Three hours could easily be classified as torture, the seemingly peaceful trip seconding as solitary confinement. Draco spent his time playing around with spells and tricks using his wand. He transfigured a coaster on the table into a mouse, then a small tree, and then a glass bottle with a miniature ship inside. Once he was bored from that he turned to look out the window to count how many things he could see pass by, he categorised them by colour, then by the letter they started with, then with the letters they ended with, then with things that rhymed with other things - he stopped and noticed his reflection now watching himself back In the window, his face was resting on his hand and he still had his wand in the other. He raised his wand and pointed it towards his head - “Decoro,” he said - his hair swished the opposite way. “Decero,” he said again, it flipped back. He spelled at it again, the blond waves straightened out and slicked back. He spelled it a couple more times, selecting through the styles, before he decided on a soft wavy fringe swept to the left.

 

He then looked down at his clothes, the same emerald green jumper and grey slacks, he’d never thought about changing it up before, not particularly fussed about impressing Muggles. It’s not like they really knew what tasteful fashion was. Although… He’d grown an enriched appreciation for denim jeans. It wasn’t Muggles he would be meeting either, Sirius was probably waiting for him with that damned motorbike. It could be heard whenever the man was leaving or returning to the house, sometimes it would wake Draco up in the middle of the night.

 

He put a hand on his thigh, fingers tracing lines into the cotton, they were comfortable and a classic cut, but they weren’t very striking or note-worthy. After a quick re-visit into his visual memory, he waved his wand over them and the colour rippled from grey to blue, the fabric became more textured and turned into faded denim, the size shrunk a little bit and felt more fitted around the crotch and thighs.

 

At first glance, he liked them. He felt his cheeks flush a little in self-approval. He made a quick trip to the adjacent bathroom just outside the compartment and admired them in the mirror. He posed, twisting his back to stare in fascination at the pure lewdness of them. They hugged his bum in a way his robes never could, the stitching ran in a subtle heart shape along the contours of where his cheeks were, accentuating the roundness of it. He _really_ liked them.

 

He looked at his deep emerald jumper, it was made out of an expensive and rare plant fibre, making the threads look lush like a leaf from a rainforest. It served him well, there wasn’t anything wrong with it and he didn’t need to mess around with its quality by transfiguring it into something else… But he couldn’t help himself.

 

He swished his wand wordlessly and the jumper glimmered for a few seconds before warping into a similarly coloured muggle t-shirt, now less snug and thick, the bottom hem cropped enough to expose the tiniest sliver of white skin.

 

He admired the way he looked - his clear skin was a little pink at the cheeks but not in a bad or unattractive way, his nearly white hair was tousled in deliberate loose waves to the side, his straight-cut jeans and cropped hem emerald shirt looked flattering and hugged him in all the right places. He looked expensive, with his fingers decorated in his collection of fine silver rings, several of them studded with green or black gems. He looked like a prize. 

 

His Father would’ve had an aneurism if he could see Draco now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Like Draco had predicted, Sirius was there waiting for him on the platform, instead of on his motorbike however he was sitting on a bench, the screeching metal contraption of death probably parked somewhere outside.

 

Draco’s luggage flew from out the last carriage to hover beside Draco’s shoulder, and he made his march from the train step over the platform gap towards the man now lifting himself off the bench. He was dressed in a denim jacket with a wooly cuff, in dark chinos and a thin grey shirt with an unbuttoned slit at the chest. Merlin, he looked as much of a teenage heart throb as Potter did, playing the contrasting persona of the rugged bad boy to Potter’s jock-all-star and boy-wonder.

 

The Omega would never be able to explain exactly what came over him, only knowing that it was too late to stop the gamut of emotions that came over him. Instead of attempting to communicate with words, Draco only flung his arms around the man’s waist, burrowing his cheek into his large chest.

 

“Woah - nice to see you too,” said Sirius in surprise.

 

Draco still couldn’t say a thing, and was grateful that the man returned the hug for a few blissful seconds.

 

Maybe milliseconds.

 

“Wait, are those _jeans_ on your arse?”

 

Draco let go and took a couple of steps back, fortunately for Sirius’ crassness he was able to get a hold of himself.

 

“I thought I’d try something different. It’s what’s in with Muggles, right?” He stared at the man challengingly.

 

“Since when have you ever cared what’s _in_ with Muggles?” Sirius barked out a laugh, there was no one around to stare at them.

 

“Since I don’t want to bring unnecessary attention to myself,” Draco hissed at him furiously, shame brewed in his belly and he could feel his face was burning from the intensity of his blush. “If you didn’t remember, I need to keep a low profile.”

 

“Petal, if you wanted to keep a low profile then it’s not going to happen in those, your arse looks good.” He whistled approvingly and leant back and to the side, getting a sneaking glance at the curve just behind the teen.

 

Draco slapped both his hands over his ass, horrified by the man’s lack of filter. “Good god, I hate you.”

 

“Duly noted. Anyway… Let’s head home?”

 

Draco stormed off into the portal Sirius gestured towards, and to his dismay the motorbike was indeed parked at the last step outside the train terminal. He barely registered the helmet being thrown at him from Sirius at the top step, the weight of it nearly knocking Draco off his feet.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry was sitting in the Great Hall for Saturday morning. Looking pissed off and agitated, the rest of the table was giving him space as he festered with his thoughts.

 

Headmaster Dumbledore had cut him off in the hall on the seventh floor that morning on his way to breakfast to casually fill him in that Draco had been sent back too Sirius for the week.

 

The Omega hadn’t even said goodbye. And he was going to be spending the week with an unbonded, unpredicatble Alpha like Sirius while his own self-restraint was already at its most compromised. It was a terrible idea, and Harry was absolutely furious…

 

Harry was mushing a hash brown with his fork when someone straddled the bench to his right.

  
  
He looked up to see it was Blaise Zabini.

 

“Hello, Potter. Zabini.” 

  
  
Harry growled.

 

  
“You might not know much about me, there’s not much you need to know. I’m here to pass on my advise, if you’ll take it.”

 

He knew enough about the Slytherin, like how he was not to be trusted.

 

“He’s not interested.” Ron said over Harry’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, snarling at him. Others at the table were all watching them, straining to hear the conversation.

 

Zabini didn’t look effected in the slightest, he looked almost emboldened by the attention. If possible his already perfect posture straightened a centimetre more.

 

“I’m sure you’ll listen to this… I thought you should know that I had offered Draco my services during his heat.”

 

Harry’s growling grew in volume, and his hand was slowly reaching for his wand hidden in his robe’s pocket. A few girls gasped at the mention of the Omega’s name, sounding confused and intrigued. Why couldn’t this scheming bastard have had this conversation somewhere more private?

 

“But he declined.” He said, sarcastically self-pitying. “It’s not you, if you’ve been wondering what the hell is keeping you out of his pants. If I’m going to be honest I think he’s warming up to you. Pansy’s told me enough of the things her and Draco talk about involving you. He just wants to be treated like a normal person. Now the real reason why I’m here…” Zabini leant in, lowly growling to match his rival under his breath. The two Alphas shared a tense moment where no one spoke, and the growls were rumbling in their chests like a pair of lions squaring off territory.

 

“Draco’s only going to come to you when he’s ready. If you so much as disturb a perfect little blond hair on his head, then my friend you better watch your back.” Then those dark-toned lips stretched into a false pleasant smile. “It was nice meeting you…Boy-Who-Lived.” He held out a hand to Harry.

 

Harry blinked at the sudden shift in tone and mood. He bemusedly reached out and shook the hand the other boy was now offering. Looking as confused by the exchange as he felt, and wordlessly watched Zabini slide from the bench and back to the Slytherin dining table.

 

“Bloody Slytherins.” Ron said beside him, it was a mystery how any words were being understood with half a blueberry muffin in his mouth.

 

“Too right,” Harry agreed, still watching the tall figure retreating away.“…Bloody Slytherins.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much for this chapter sorry!!! but exciting things cant happen everytime i suppose ;) 
> 
> just wanted to get this out of the way so i could start writing for that good old heat we all know and wnat
> 
> remember this is a drarry story!! so no matter what happens thats the end game ;^)


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